


So Spoke the Wanderer

by rivlee



Series: Journeys 'Verse [1]
Category: Band of Brothers, HBO War, The Pacific - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-01
Updated: 2012-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-30 11:04:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bob Leckie’s gone on a long, strange trip to another world. Modern Fantasy AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This is all fiction based off the characters as portrayed in the HBO mini-series. Quotes contained in the text belong to Barrie, Tolkien, and Pratchett. 
> 
> **A/N:** Beta read by . All remaining mistakes are mine. Longer author’s note [here](http://larks-still-fly.livejournal.com/16788.html#cutid1)

**Denial**

Bob Leckie hated to lend credence to the stereotype of his Irish-American culture, but he drank so much last night he needed a new liver. He didn’t even remember getting plastered, but the pain and nausea currently attacking his system only came with a hangover. He blinked his eyes open in the dim light while his nose wrinkled at the smell of industrial strength cleaner.

“Fuck,” he muttered, finding himself in a cell. He hadn’t woken up in a drunk tank in years.

Leckie rubbed his face, shook his head, and still couldn’t get his mind to clear. The place just seemed too damn bright, like everything was full of neon and fluorescent.

He walked to the cell bars and banged his closed fist against the cold metal. 

“Officer,” he called out.

“Hey Bull, the Wanderer is up,” a male voice said.

Two men approached. Leckie took one look at the taller man with horns protruding from his forehead and sat back down. 

“What the fuck’s your problem, never seen a minotaur before?” the smaller man asked.

“I thought they looked different,” Leckie said. He shook his head. “I must still be drunk.”

“Why do they always say that,” the small man muttered. He rapped the bars to get Leckie’s attention. “Hey, Wanderer, we’re your Welcoming Committee. I’m John-Martin of the Sprites.” He pointed to the minotaur. “This is Bull of the Minotaurs. You’re currently getting scrubbed clean in there so we don’t get any of your nasty viruses.”

Leckie’s face must have shown his confusion because Bull and John-Martin exchanged a look.

“You can’t feel that tickling?” Bull asked.

To be honest, Leckie could, but he just figured it was from the cold air blasting through the cell. He looked down at his arm and slid back over the bench. There was a small army of miniature butterflies working their way down his arm.

“It took them hours to clean your hair,” John-Martin said.

“What the fuck is this?” Leckie asked.

Bull shook his head. “They always say that too.”

John-Martin crossed his arms and gave Leckie a very impressive glare. “You’ve crossed the border, Wanderer, and are now on the Other Side.”

Leckie covered his mouth with the hand not currently carrying its own _Lisa Frank_ collage. 

“That’s great, that’s lovely. What and where the hell is that again?” he asked.

John-Martin sighed and turned to face Bull. “Call Haldane; we’ve got another Webster on our hands.”

Leckie pushed himself back to the front of bench and tried to see more of the facility. It was really damn bright here, everything seemed to shine or glow. He squinted, but that wasn’t helping shit.

“That’s not going to help nothing,” Bull said. He slid something into a chamber that passed through to Leckie’s side of the cell. “You ain’t meant to see any of this like normal. Your body’s got to adjust. Take the visors.”

“Visors?” Leckie asked.

Bull pointed to the chamber with a hooved foot. 

Leckie stood up and pulled out a set of odd-looking sunglasses.

“Magical shades?” he asked. “Really?”

Bull shrugged. “You don’t got to put them on, but it’s your headache to live with.”

John-Martin came back, a tall man towering behind him. Haldane, presumably.

Haldane was not a minotaur or a sprite. He looked just like Leckie. Well, minus the shining eyes and the fact they were an inhuman blue-green. 

“What exactly do they call that color? Radioactive Seawater? Shades of Chernobyl?” Leckie asked.

“Oh, you’re going to be loads of fun,” Haldane said in a voice reserved only for drill sergeants and football coaches. 

“He just woke-up and he’s already got a hell of a mouth on him,” John-Martin said.

“They can’t all be Sledge,” Haldane said. He walked over to a panel on the side of the cell and touched something. “How does his mind seem?”

“I’m right here,” Leckie said.

“His language skills are definitely working,” John-Martin said.

“I can _hear_ you,” Leckie said.

Haldane gave him an amused smile. “Eddie’s been saying that Hoosier and Snaf need a new friend.”

Bull and John-Martin both snorted at that.

“What’s your name, kiddo?” Haldane asked.

“Bob Leckie,” he said. “And I’m not a child.”

Haldane nodded. “Whatever you say, Junior. You’re going to get some rest now; I don’t want the trip to Merrymec to kill you.”

“In case it’s escaped your notice, I’m not exactly of the mind or body to take a nap right now.”

“Is that so?” John-Martin asked as he pressed one of the panel buttons.

The next thing Leckie knew was darkness.

************

“Don’t drop him, Hoosier,” Haldane said, waking Leckie up.

“He’s fucking heavy,” a man, apparently Hoosier, said. 

“Kiss my ass,” Leckie said. 

He opened his eyes and recoiled in confusion. Everything was darkly shaded by the sunglasses over his eyes.

“Nice manners,” Hoosier said as he dropped Leckie onto a chair.

Leckie shook his head and ripped off the glasses. He was in some sort of office. Haldane was there, looking through a filing cabinet that apparently sorted itself. Hoosier, the only other person in the room, was a young man with dirty-blond hair and a bitter twist to his lips. 

Leckie was just grateful he didn’t have horns.

Leckie cleared his throat. “Where the hell am I and who the hell are you?”

“Are you capable of saying anything else or do you just repeat variations of curse words?” Hoosier asked.

“Hoosier,” Haldane warned. He turned to Leckie and gave him a warm smile. “Welcome, Bob Leckie, to the Other Side. Or the Other World. Or Faery. We are called different things by different people,” he said. 

“I like Neverwhere,” Hoosier said.

Leckie blinked at that. “This is a dream. It’s not possible for Neil Gaiman to create a mass delusion, right?”

“Do you often dream about strange men, some with horns protruding from their skulls?” Hoosier asked.

“Not that I can recall,” Leckie said.

“I’d say safe bet, this isn’t a dream.” Hoosier said.

Leckie took a deep breath. He liked to think of himself as a logical, rational man. Logically he knew, and he could see, that things weren’t right here. People’s eyes weren’t supposed to shine. They didn’t call themselves Minotaurs or Sprites. They didn’t have pixies that worked like some sort of cleaning microbes. 

How the ever-loving-fuck was he supposed to get home?

He took another deep breath and tried to stop himself from hyperventilating. He focused on the sounds, the soft whirr of Haldane’s self-propelling filing cabinet, the smell of menthol that wafted in the air from Hoosier. He clenched his fists and felt the slinky material that made up the sunglasses. Not plastic, but something smooth to the touch and warmed by his hands. He heard a scurrying sound and looked down to the floor where a creature that could only be described as a Cheshire Cat curled up at Haldane’s feet.

Hoosier leaned back on a desk that wouldn’t be out of place in a cubicle. He studied Leckie for a moment and nodded his head.

“What?” Leckie asked, thankful to have something else to focus on.

“Let me guess, you’re trying to figure out how to get home,” Hoosier said.

Leckie nodded. “That sounds about right.”

“Well, shit, Dorothy, did you try clicking your heels and wishing?”

Leckie turned to Haldane. “You have _The Wizard of Oz_ here?”

Haldane didn’t even bother to look up from his folders. “Leckie, you will learn, over the course of what I am guessing will be many conversations, that of the various things our Realm Jumpers bring back across the divide, entertainment is of the highest volume.”

Leckie took a moment to let that sink in. This, apparently, wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Not if they had holding cells created. Holy shit, Elvis really _did_ go home.

Haldane waved around what looked like a thin piece of marble. “This is our version of a clipboard. Or, to be more accurate, a computer tablet. I write down your information and it will automatically transfer to the Archives.”

“With what, a magic wand?”

Haldane pulled out a wooden stylus. “Something like that,” he said.

“And do I get any say on where my information is going?” Leckie asked.

“Depends on how much you _really_ want a long, personal, tour of Ville’s dungeons,” Hoosier said.

“Good answer,” Leckie said. He leaned back and pinched his brow. He could’ve killed for an aspirin right now. “So you two are what, like, census takers?”

“Hardly,” Hoosier scoffed, “and if anyone heard you talk to His—”

“—Hoosier,” Haldane interrupted, “not now.” He sat down across from Leckie. “I am Andrew of the Haldane family. I’m the Watch Keeper of the 35th District. Sort of a like a sheriff and a senator combined. As you’ve most likely gathered, we’re not exactly human around here.”

“Believe it or not, I did figure that out. So what are you?” Leckie asked.

“I’m the child of a Bard and an Autumn Sidhe,” Haldane said.

“How has that worked out for you?” Leckie asked.

“It gives him a supreme amount of calm in situations that would make you shit your pants, Leckie,” Hoosier said.

“So what are you supposed to be, my fairy godfather?” Leckie asked Haldane.

“The hilarious part is you don’t know how true that is,” Hoosier answered. 

Haldane swatted Hoosier on the back of the head. “What our lowly 20th level wizard friend here is trying to tell you is that, yes, technically speaking, I am part fairy. We prefer the term _Sidhe_ though, as the faery tend to come with wings and look more like bats.”

“That’s a lovely image,” Leckie said. He fiddled with the sunglasses in his hands. “So how’d we get from bats to Tinker Bell?”

“You didn’t ask about pixies,” Haldane said.

“Christ, you even have _Peter Pan_ over here.”

“ _Second star to the right_ ,” Hoosier quoted.

“This is so marvelously fucked up,” Leckie said. He shook his head. “This doesn’t happen. This _can’t_ happen. I don’t even—how does it—”

Haldane stood up and sat down next to Leckie. He patted his shoulder. 

“I know it sounds unbelievable, but it’s happened for ages. There are portals all over your world which lead to ours. Like any gateway, they go both ways. Each year, when the borders between our worlds fall, people come through. A select few of our people, the Realm Jumpers, can travel at any time. For the rest of us, we can only go once, twice a year at most.”

Leckie put his head in his hands and tried to clear his mind. He couldn’t just go home. There were no midnight trains to New York City, and it didn’t look like Haldane had a time machine in his office.

“You know, it’s late,” Hoosier said. “We should just head back to the home office.”

“Don’t let me stop your paperwork,” Leckie said.

“It can wait,” Haldane said, his voice gone soft.

Leckie fell asleep on the ride from wherever he was to wherever Haldane was taking him. They were in some sort of self-propelled carriage-like thing. There was an odd taste and scent in the air that made him tired. 

“We’re here,” Haldane said, waking him up by shaking his shoulder.

Leckie looked around the parking lot. 

“Huh,” he said, stepping out of the carriage. “I was expecting more horses.”

“The horses here can’t exactly be tamed,” Haldane said. 

“Where’s your sidekick?” Leckie asked, looking around for Hoosier.

“He’s already gone up to the house. I figured we’d give you the tour first.”

Leckie slipped on his sunglasses and followed Haldane up a hill, walking a path marked with white paving stones. 

“So does everyone park their carriages there?” he asked.

“Merrymec’s streets are too narrow to accommodate the carriages. Deliveries have to be made by wagon or spirit, whichever your household prefers.”

“And you have, what, your jail here?”

Haldane nodded. “My home is a manor; it marks the old center of the city. You could say we have a jail there, but most criminals are sent out to Ville. That’s where the main judicial courts and prisons stand.”

They crested the hill and came onto a stone paved road which led to the gates of the city. The doors were flung wide, one very tall man standing guard.

“Chuckler,” Haldane greeted him, “quiet day?”

“Typical day,” Chuckler said. He smiled at Leckie with a mouth full of bright teeth. “You must be the new arrival. Welcome, Wanderer.”

“Thanks,” Leckie muttered, slightly backing away from Chuckler. He didn’t trust people who smiled that wide.

As they walked through the city streets, everyone waved at Haldane like he was some football star in Texas, while they all gazed at Leckie in curiosity before going back to their lives. 

“You always get the star treatment?” Leckie asked.

“It’s a close-knit village,” Haldane said. He stopped in front of a massive building. “Here we are.”

Leckie knew a thing or two about history, and even though he’d always gone more for the military side of things, he’d started off as kid obsessed with castles. If Haldane’s _manor_ wasn’t considered a castle on this side of the divide, Leckie didn’t want to know how immense the real castles were.

“This is your home?” Leckie asked.

Haldane clapped him on the shoulder. “I know it’s a bit much, but it’s a family property. The first two floors and one of the towers are used as a school. The front of the house is for the Watch Keepers. The back half is all private property.”

“What about that river?” Leckie asked, pointing to the wide expanse of water in the background.

“The rights to the river, like all the waters here, belong to the Sirens. As we have a Siren in our household we hold the rights, but keep it open to the public. Except for the lake, that’s private. Mostly because we get tired of Bessie trying to eat the locals.”

“Bessie?”

“You’re in a magical land, Leckie, did you really think we’re without sea creatures?”

Leckie ran a hand over his face and laughed the laugh of the distraught and supremely fucked. “You know, I’m eventually going to wake up and be surprised at the amount of acid I dropped.”

Haldane gave him a sad, disappointed smile. “I wish you’d see how real this is Leckie, but I can’t force you to believe it. We’ll let you get some rest and then take you to a Wanderer’s meeting.”

“A who in the what?”

“The Wanderers, all the people like you who have crossed over the divide and settled here.”

“Is that your subtle way of telling me I’ll never get home.”

“Oh, you’ll get home if you go when the barriers are thin, but for your world that won’t be in another six months, when they are at their thinnest. In our world, that’s going to be a year of your life.”

“So, I’m fucked.”

“Or you’re lucky. Consider it an adventure.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s me, Lucky Leckie,” he spit out. If this was lucky over here, he didn’t want to see cursed.

Haldane didn’t respond to that, he just walked up to the door, pressing his hand into the middle of the stone paneling. Leckie saw a brief shimmer before a handle appeared and the door swung open from the inside.

“Hoosier said you brought home a new stray,” a man on the other side said. His voice was lilting, almost musical, and distracted Leckie long enough to hinder the impending panic attack. 

“Guilty as charged,” Haldane said, actually looking sheepish for a moment. He waved at Leckie to come forward. “Get in the house, Leckie, before you let all the heat out.”

“He’s not just saying that,” the stranger said. “These old places are hard to heat, even with magical flames.”

“Noted,” Leckie said. He stepped inside and tried not to flinch as all the candles suddenly lit up with bright blue flames. 

“It’s just a security measure,” Haldane said, “it lets the occupants know a stranger is here.”

“You might want to warn a person the next time,” Leckie said. He pulled off his sunglasses and held out his hand. “Bob Leckie, sorry to intrude on your hospitality.”

The man took his hand with a callus worn grip. “Eideard of the Sirens. Most of the Wanderers call me ‘Eddie.’ Easier to pronounce, apparently.”

“A bit,” Leckie agreed. 

Eddie’s eyes shone like Haldane’s, only his were a clearer blue.

“So, why do only some of you have the shining eye bit?” Leckie asked. 

“They’re a family trait,” Eddie explained, “I believe one of the Wanderers ascribed it something called a Hapsburg Jaw.”

Leckie snorted at that. “Good to know inbreeding isn’t limited to Earth,” he said.

Both Eddie and Haldane smirked at that, exchanging a look over something Leckie couldn’t grasp.

“De L’Eau’s already asking if you sent in Leckie’s profile,” Eddie said.

“We haven’t quite gotten that far yet,” Haldane admitted.

Eddie shook his head. “ _Aindrea_ —”

“I know,” Haldane said. “Sorry, Leckie, looks like it will be a working afternoon.”

Apparently they’d entered at the back of the house; the furnishings went from pieces looking like they belonged in a museum to a mismatched mess of office furniture.

“Is that a fax machine?” Leckie asked.

“Sort of,” Haldane said.

Eddie left them at the doorway to Haldane’s office, taking care of a person waiting at the front desk.

“We just have to ask you a few questions; try to establish how you got over here so we can make sure to station a guard at that portal. As much as we welcome Wanderers, we don’t need everybody stumbling through.”

“Understandable.”

Hoosier was already inside the office, one of the tablets out and a large wolfhound at his feet.

“De L’Eau’s getting power hungry,” he said. 

“Sent you a scathing message, did he?” Haldane asked.

“He sent me a fucking moth messenger. He’s lucky I didn’t set that damn thing on fire.”

That seemed to be enough of an explanation for Haldane. He grabbed one of the tablets and gestured for Leckie to sit down. 

“We used your identification card in your wallet to get your basic information,” Haldane said.

“You picked my pockets?” Leckie asked.

“More like your wallet, shoes, and watch are made of synthetic materials that set our alarms off,” Hoosier said.

“You have a lot of alarms here,” Leckie said, “but I guess it’s just like trying to smuggle fruit out of the country. They frown on that sort of thing.”

“Of course,” Haldane said. He leaned against one of the bookshelves. “How did you get here?”

“I don’t know,” Leckie said. 

Hoosier looked up from his tablet so fast he startled the wolfhound. After the barking subsided he asked, “How do you not know?”

Haldane put down his tablet and studied Leckie. He tried not to flinch under the scrutiny.

“Leckie, what’s the last thing you remember?” Haldane asked.

“I finished working on my manuscript for the night and went to sleep.”

Haldane and Hoosier exchanged a look. That wasn’t good.

“What, what does that mean?” he asked.

“Unless you’re sleeping on top of a portal, and trust me, you would know, you couldn’t have just fallen asleep there and woken up here,” Hoosier said. 

“Do you sleep walk?” Haldane asked.

“No,” Leckie said.

“Well, you didn’t just trip and fall your way through the portal,” Haldane said.

“Did you?” Hoosier asked.

“No!” Leckie yelled.

“Someone needs to sit a spell,” Hoosier said. The only thing that stopped him from completing a spell was Haldane’s tight grip on his shoulder. 

“Is he allowed to do that?” Leckie asked.

“Technically speaking, yes, as a member of the Watch Keepers he is allowed to calm down the unruly by use of his powers,” Haldane said.

“Oh, that’s not asking for a police brutality law suit,” Leckie said. 

“You do realize half the shit you say we don’t understand,” Hoosier said. 

“Be nice,” Haldane admonished.

“Don’t ask for miracles,” Hoosier said. 

“Walk me through the night before,” Haldane said, ignoring Hoosier. 

Leckie leaned back, trying not to flinch when the wolfhound laid his head on Leckie’s lap. He tried to piece together what he remembered from the previous day. 

“Got a coffee, took a walk, watched a movie, ate dinner, wrote, and slept.”

“Didn’t manage to get a curse on you? Piss someone off? Are you sure it was coffee you drank?” Hoosier asked.

“I don’t think so; probably it’s New York; and unless my barista has a new secret ingredient, no,” Leckie answered. 

Haldane jotted a few notes on his tablet and pressed a button that made it light up like a Christmas tree.

“What did you tell Jay?” Hoosier asked Haldane.

“That he’s just going to have to wait for the test results,” Haldane said.

“Are we done?” Leckie asked.

An eagle swopped in through the window and dropped an envelope in Leckie’s lap.

“We are now,” Haldane said. “Archimedes just dropped off your official records and papers.” 

The eagle squawked and took off again.

************

 

Hoosier was the one charged with giving Leckie the three-hour-tour. He didn’t know what scared him more, Hoosier or his big damn dog. He was eager to see the school, but apparently a guy named Sledge was going to do that later in the week. 

Hoosier walked through the halls with familiarity, but Leckie doubted he grew up in such surroundings. His accent was different, his eyes didn’t shine, and he seemed to handle everything in the private residential areas with a measured care. 

“How long have you been here?” Leckie asked. 

“About five years now,” Hoosier answered without going into a deeper explanation. 

They came to a staircase that went down into the ground. The dog wouldn’t budge. Leckie didn’t want to either.

“What’s down there?” he asked. 

“Snafu, he’s the other regular member of the household.”

“Snafu is not exactly a name that breeds confidence,” Leckie said. 

“It’s not his original name, but it’s the one he answers to now,” Hoosier said. He gestured to the stairs. “Age before beauty.”

“You’re just a charming little fucker, aren’t you,” Leckie said. 

“My mother always thought so,” Hoosier said.

Torches lit up as they walked down the staircase, flickering off as they passed. The flame was a pleasant yellow, giving off just enough light to see the next few steps. The staircase had a clear end in sight, but Leckie was still freaked out by the water he could hear rushing by.

“It’s just part of the river,” Hoosier explained. 

Leckie didn’t make a comment about alligators in sewers but when they finally reached level ground he couldn’t stop his gagging cough at the stench. 

“What the hell is this?” Leckie asked, speaking with a hand over his nose. 

There was a smell in the air, something like sulfur but even worse and it was hard as hell not to vomit.

“Pretty boy like you never been inside a morgue?” Hoosier asked. His eyes glittered in the low light, cat-like in their visual sneer. 

Leckie shook his head. “The only dead bodies I’ve seen are at funerals.”

Hoosier cast him a confused look over his shoulder. “I think we’ve got a different idea of funerals on this side of the divide.”

They stopped at a carved wooden door showing various images of Death. A sign tacked to it proclaimed _Out To Lunch_.

Leckie would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so beyond confused.

“This is Snaf’s place,” Hoosier said as he pushed the door open. “His family wanted him to go into Healing, but the boy was always better at figuring out how a body died.”

“A body? Not a person?”

“We’re a land of unfinished business,” Hoosier muttered.

Snafu’s office had morgue tables covered in sheets and piled high with books. His desk was a mess of mugs and paper scraps.

“He doesn’t get to use the shiny tablets?”

“He’s more a traditionalist,” Hoosier said. He picked up a note. “Huh, guess he went out to Roe’s.”

“Then what are we doing here?”

“We store the Handbooks down here. Snaf ain’t exactly using the space.”

“Handbooks?”

“Yup,” Hoosier said. “No idea where the little fucker hid them.”

Leckie took a seat while Hoosier sorted through a few more cabinets. He studied the office, wondering how anyone could work here with such an absolute lack of sunlight. 

“Screw it,” Hoosier said and turned to face Leckie. “This is one of the most important things you will need to survive.” He snapped his fingers and a book appeared in Leckie’s lap.

The title read _The Wanderer’s Handbook_ and looked about the size of a bible.

“Does it tell me to never forget my towel and don’t panic?” Leckie asked. 

“What?” Hoosier asked.

Leckie smirked. “So, you have the _Wizard of Oz_ here but no _Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_? One of your Realm Jumpers needs to fix that.”

“The last thing they brought back was _The Da Vinci Code_.”

“God, don’t make me puke,” Leckie said, “or cry.”

“It wasn’t that big of a hit here, if that helps? But Old Webster was pulling out his hair because we just didn’t get the master of Da Vinci or some shit. Look, if I’m going to stare at paintings, I at least want them to do something fun.”

“You’re a modern art man, I can respect that.” Leckie tried to shake off the sick feeling. “Are we done here? This place creeps me out.”

Hoosier smirked. “Wait until you actually meet Snafu.”

They trudged back up the stairs in comfortable silence, but Leckie just had to know the answer to one question.

“Your name is Hoosier,” Leckie said. “Are you from Indiana?”

“No,” Hoosier said, drawing out the word.

“Then how did you get that name?” he asked.

“I’m from the Hill Shire country in Cumberland,” he answered. 

“Why do I feel like that was an obvious answer,” Leckie said.

“Because it is; you need to read your Handbook,” Hoosier said.

************

 

Leckie fell asleep before he had the chance to eat dinner. He decided to blame it on the inter-dimensional jet lag and not his lack of being able to cope. He could hear people in the house below getting on with their day, but the general lack of noise put him even more on edge. If he didn’t have an apartment building full of loud artists, trains running and cars honking, he didn’t know how to sleep. 

He couldn’t help but think about his new roommates. Hoosier was more entertaining than Leckie wanted to admit, but he could appreciate a heaping dose of sarcasm. Something about the wizard just set his teeth on edge. Snafu was still an unknown face attached to a few anecdotes Hoosier willingly spilled as the night wore on. And then there were the other two. Eddie and Haldane were clearly a couple. Even if they never came out and said so, the huge wedding portrait in the foyer was a bit of a clue. They worked together effortlessly, a perfect team which required little verbal communication. Leckie had never seen two people more comfortable with each other. Eddie and Haldane both had a timelessness about them, and even though Eddie was the elder, he always deferred to Haldane’s leadership. Leckie was still trying to figure out what it was about the man that made people so blindly follow him, but hell, even Bob was doing it himself. He just reeked of competence. Leckie wanted to dislike him, but it felt like doing so violated some unwritten law.

Not that Leckie could dislike him, because he oozed charm without being smug. Leckie did kind of hate him for that. Still, the man opened his house to a stranger based on instinct and Leckie was in no place to be refusing food or shelter.

Leckie’s room overlooked the river that ran through the back of the property. He didn’t want to call it a yard because it was boarded by meadows, forest, and mountains, but it did lie behind the property. He had a nice little balcony the size of his apartment back in New York. He had a room that felt like a suite in the Four Seasons, but luckily, someone called off the servants. Or Haldane just ran with a skeleton crew. Leckie hadn’t seen a maid or a butler, but someone had to be around to keep the place clean. 

He walked out of his room and stepped into the corridor. His steps were muffled by the plush carpet over the stone floor. He wasn’t quite sure where to go, but he definitely needed to eat something. 

“Sleeping Beauty’s all woken-up,” Hoosier said.

Leckie cursed as he rounded the corner.

“Well, that’s just rude,” Hoosier said. He slung an arm over Leckie’s shoulders. “Let’s get you some grub.”

“What are you, psychic?”

“No, your stomach is just that damn loud.”

Hoosier led them over to a wall of wood paneling. He placed his free hand on one of the knots and pushed open the door to a secret passage. 

“Fastest way to get to the kitchens from here,” Hoosier said. “We’ve got a staff to feed all the university kids, so we just steal some of their food. Though you, my Wanderer friend, can probably only handle the bread right now. Got to get you used to real food.”

“I’m not that delicate.”

“You’re dealing with ingredients you’ve never met before. I’m not cleaning up your shit. Literally.”

“So explain to me how this works as a home, a Watch Keeper residence, and a school,” Leckie said.

Hoosier shrugged. “It’s the biggest place I’ve ever seen and Haldane knows he doesn’t need all this space. Since the people pay for part of its upkeep, Haldane figured they might as well get something out of it.”

“And why can’t you show me the school?”

“Because it’s full of Wanderers like you, and they still get a little twitchy around wizards. They think we’re going to turn them into newts or something.”

“And these Wanderers, they can come from any place at any time?”

“Not at any time,” Hoosier said. “It has to be when the borders are down.”

“Right, okay. But what about time period or era? Like, say I come through from New York City in 2011 Common Era, could someone from, say, Rome in 44 Before Common Era also stumble on through.”

Hoosier shrugged. “I guess, but I got to tell you, Leckie, that’s really not a question for me. You’ll want to ask Eddie or De L’Eau, that’s really their area.”

“Not an academic then. So what do you do besides wizarding?”

“My wizarding isn’t enough for you?” Hoosier asked.

“I don’t expect wizards to have a cubicle.”

“Dungeons give me asthma,” Hoosier said. 

The kitchen was bigger than most hotel lobbies. There was a small table set up near one of the large bay windows, with two seats already occupied. Eddie was picking his way through a bowl of purple and blue fruit, while a young man with a dark smile fiddled with a bowl of porridge.

“Snafu, you’re back,” Hoosier said, settling down beside him.

“You missed me?” Snafu asked.

“It’s not the same without you lurking in the dungeon or up in the attic. What did Roe need?”

“Just an extra set of hands to gather up some plants. Needed someone who knows the difference between poisonous and deadly,” Snafu said, speaking with a carefully measured cadence. 

“The plants look different in the country,” Hoosier said.

“Here we go again,” Eddie muttered. “Before you two start arguing over the difference between Healers and country kitchen wizards, let me at least make introductions. Leckie, meet Snafu, our own personal ghoul in the dungeons. Snaf, Leckie here’s a brand new Wanderer; it’s only his second day on this side.”

“You telling me to be nice?” Snafu asked.

“There’s no telling you anything, Snaf. I’m simply asking you,” Eddie said.

“Uh-huh,” Snafu said, “welcome to the Manor. Hope you manage to last.”

“Thanks,” Leckie said. He jumped when a plate of bread appeared before him. “What in the hell?”

Eddie patted his shoulder. “You’ll get used to it. We send our breakfast orders down in the morning and it gets prepared for us. The kitchen sprites work so fast, you never see them, they just run on past. Occasionally you’ll catch them out of the corner of your eye, but you’ll never see one unless they’re standing still.”

“You’re trying to tell me they move so fast they’re invisible?”

“Yes,” Eddie said.

Leckie rubbed his forehead. “It’s too early in the morning for this.”

“Just try to survive breakfast,” Snafu suggested.

************

Haldane and Hoosier had to handle some mysterious incident and decided to leave Leckie in Eddie’s care. Leckie wanted to bitch about having a babysitter, but hell, he didn’t even know what constituted a criminal offense here. 

Leckie settled in a chair near the front desk of the Watch Keepers’ office and started to flip through the pamphlets there. 

“So you take the whole working from home thing to an extreme, don’t you,” Leckie said while unfolding _What To Do If Your Ghoul Is Unruly_.

“Watch Keepers have always run their operations from their own homes. How else are you to be sure of security and staff,” Eddie said.

“But how do you know your staff is secure?” Leckie asked.

“Why do you think we employ a wizard?”

“Ah,” Leckie said. He pointed a finger to the floor. “And the reason for employing Snafu?”

“It’s always good to have someone like Snafu kicking around a home. Especially since our receiving room is often used as a law court,” Eddie said. 

“I’m suddenly wishing I paid attention in my Tudor/Stuart England classes,” Leckie said. 

Eddie smiled. “I am certain that would be a very funny observation if I knew what you were talking about.”

“Yeah, about that,” Leckie said, putting down _Vampires Are People Too_. “How can I understand you?”

“We perfected the art of imprinting a translator spell into Wanderers’ minds centuries ago. It doesn’t translate all our languages, but it still works for our Common Tongue,” Eddie said. 

“So people like me really aren’t that uncommon? Where the hell do they all go?”

“Some wait it out and return to their homes. Quite a few settle here. We have a handful of Wanderers in our town, but most gravitate to the larger cities. I think they feel more comfortable with all the sounds and lack of space there.”

“But you’re not from here either,” Leckie said.

Eddie turned his full attention to Leckie, his blue eyes flashing for only a moment. 

“What makes you say that?” he asked. 

“Your accent, it’s slightly different from Haldane’s. Hoosier and Snafu’s are different by miles, but it’s pretty obvious they’re from a different social class. You’re Haldane’s spouse and I’m guessing his equal, or near to it. Despite that, there’s a pause in your speech, as if you constantly have to remind yourself not to speak in another language.”

“You’re very observant,” Eddie noted. 

“Part of my job description.”

“And what was that again?”

“I’m a writer,” he said, flipping through _Mushrooms: Food or Creatures?_.

“A scribe or an archivist?” Eddie asked. 

“Journalist and sometimes historian, occasional poet,” Leckie said.

“Ahh,” Eddie said, drawing out the sound, “you are indeed quite like Webster.”

“I keep hearing that name.”

“He is a Wanderer much like you. I was the first to greet him, as he arrived by the South Seas, where my family is based.”

“What, did he come on a boat?” Leckie asked.

“Yes,” Eddie said. 

“Oh,” Leckie said in shock. The _Rights of Were-Beings_ dropped from his hands to the floor with an audible thud.

“The borders exist around your whole world,” Eddie explained. “It’s not just a matter of walking through it. If you’re in the sky, out on the sea, in a field, if a border falls you will crossover.”

“That’s not very secure.”

“Hence the Watch Keepers,” Eddie said. A clock chimed in the background and Eddie made a note on one of his papers. “Sledge should be here soon to answer some of your questions. He’s a Wanderer who decided to settle.”

“I really just want to get back home,” Leckie said. 

Eddie softly smiled. “You need to read your Handbook,” he said. 

“I doubt all the answers I need are in those pages.”

“There are enough,” he said. “If you take any of the courses at the University, you need to pass the entrance exam. You will need the Handbook for that.”

“You can’t just tell me how to get home?”

“I can tell you, but I don’t think you will accept my word so why waste my breath? You will excuse it as something lost in translation, or a lack of understanding. You will tell me that I can’t possibly understand what you’re going through, and I’d much rather avoid all that this time around. I don’t begrudge _Aindrea_ his strays, but I sometimes grow weary of comforting you Wanderers.”

“Ouch,” Leckie said.

Eddie shrugged. “Sirens aren’t known for their friendly and welcoming behavior.”

“Making friends are you?” Haldane asked, coming through the back door. 

“I’ve been on land too long,” Eddie said.

“Then go for a swim with Bessie and stop scaring our newest traveler.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Eddie said.

“Go,” Haldane said with a wave of his hand. “Sledge is coming by soon anyway.”

“Try to remember to stop for a meal this time,” Eddie said, “you really don’t need him to interpret all of Kipling’s writings for you.”

“Go,” Haldane ordered.

Eddie left with slow and deliberate movements while trying to bite back a smile. Leckie had a feeling a whole conversation was going on and he wasn’t ever going to figure it out.

“So you’re shoving me off on another stranger,” Leckie said after Eddie finally passed through the doorway. 

“Hoosier is still out on a job,” Haldane explained, head still turned to watch Eddie leave. He shook his head and walked into his office. He left the door open, and Leckie took that for an invitation.

“The wizard works outside jobs?” Leckie asked.

“Don’t sound so cynical,” Haldane said.

“What’s he going to do, attack someone with vicious sarcasm?” Leckie asked.

“Hoosier may be a wizard but don’t think that will stop him from throwing a punch at you,” Haldane cautioned. He pulled out a bulging archive folder and placed it in front of Leckie. “That’s all the complaints we have on Hoosier before he reached his majority. And those are only the ones we have _on file_. I had to bring him here or someone would’ve put a Death Curse on him. Or worse.”

“What could be worse than a Death Curse?”

“Over here? So many things.”

“That part’s not in the Handbook, I take it?”

“We don’t exactly want to frighten our new residents into a permanent state of fear. We’re like any place, we just have our own unique set of crime and punishment,” Haldane said.

“Hoosier said this was a land of unfinished business.”

Haldane took his seat and studied Leckie for a moment before he gave his explanation. “There are many people on this side who can work their will, magic, what have you,” he said, gesturing at the air, “to extend a life or to heal a wound. We have longer lives by virtue of our own genetic code. But when death does come here, rarely is it natural or peaceful.”

“Shining endorsement,” Leckie said.

“From what I’ve gathered through my studies your land isn’t exactly known for its peaceful living.”

“Nope most of my people die from health related causes thanks to a life devoted to sloth, gluttony, lust or all three. I like to think it makes us special.”

“You really have a way with sentiment, Leckie,” Haldane said. He dropped his gaze and started sorting through files. “Have you read any of your Handbook yet?” he asked.

“Since I’m still not sure what the hell is going, no,” Leckie said. 

“You’ve been given a guide to making your way in an alternate world and you’re hung up on the details?” Haldane asked. There was nothing mocking in his tone, only honest curiosity.

“I was once told not to believe everything I read in books,” Leckie said.

“So you’re a man of experience then,” Haldane observed, “you need to see to believe. Right now, you can still dismiss this all as some grand delusion or a psychotic break. Understandable, I suppose, since you made the trip while unconscious. That honestly doesn’t happen very often.”

“Aren’t I special,” Leckie said. 

Haldane touched a part of his desk that immediately lit up. He typed in something that caused it to glow brighter and then make three blue blobs dart off to god only knew where.

“Please don’t tell me that was ectoplasm,” Leckie said.

“It’s a messenger system,” Haldane said.

“How?” Leckie asked. He walked over to the desk and stared at the glowing section. “How the hell does—what the fuck?”

“I’d explain it to you, but I somehow don’t think you’d believe me,” Haldane said. He touched a hand to Leckie’s shoulder, motioning for him to sit down. “I doubt you’re ready for discussions on the immaterial. All you need to know is that two of my employees, Runner and Chuckler, are going to guide you to Sledge’s house. You met Chuckler yesterday; he was the tall guard outside the gates.”

“What,” Leckie said.

“You’ll accept it when you’re ready,” Haldane promised.

************

Leckie didn’t really get how Runner and Chuckler worked together, but a Sprite and a Giant seemed to make as much sense as a Siren and a Sidhe. He liked them immediately; it was hard not to, with Chuckler’s honesty and Runner’s quick humor. Their temperaments suited each other, even if their lines of descent didn’t. 

Unlike Hoosier and Snafu, they didn’t live in the Manor. Runner and Chuckler’s house was in a section of the city full of old willow trees and a sense of peace. It wasn’t difficult at all to see the attraction of making a home here. 

“You really don’t know how you got here?” Runner asked.

“Not a clue,” Leckie admitted. 

It wasn’t hard to talk to either of them; he didn’t feel defensive like he did with Hoosier and Snafu. Eddie intimated the hell out of him, but it was only because his eyes showed all the ages he’d lived. Haldane was a whole other story, but Runner and Chuckler? They were like any buddy you’d find at a bar. 

“No wonder Haldane’s housing you,” Chuckler said, “that hasn’t happened in years.”

“So, what, everyone else remembers right where they were when it happened?”

“Apparently everything glows here until your eyes adjust,” Runner said, “and that serves as a big clue. Everyone thinks they’ve lost their minds for the first few days, but Sledge has this theory that if you’re awake and conscious of the change in your surroundings, it can settle in quicker. Unless you just refuse to accept it, of course.”

“And what happens to those people?” Leckie asked.

“We put them to sleep,” Chuckler said.

“Like stasis or _Sleeping Beauty_?” Leckie asked. 

“It’s a medically induced sleep by way of magical herbs, you tell me,” Chuckler said. 

“So a bit of both then,” Leckie said. 

Runner and Chuckler walked on either side of Leckie while they passed the outskirts of town. It’d been ages since Leckie walked anywhere outside of city blocks and his shoes were not suited for walking over dirt and pebble roads.

“I don’t suppose you’ve got a shoe store in the area? Or shoe-making elves?”

“Elves don’t make shoes,” Runner said. 

“You might want to tell the Grimm Brothers that,” Leckie muttered. 

“We have shoe-makers and cobblers,” Chuckler said, “and you can buy them from passing merchants.”

“So not everyone is some sort of magical creature?” Leckie asked.

“You’ll get a better explanation in your Handbook,” Runner said, “but magical lines die out and families change over generations. Besides magic, in terms of wizards, or people like Snafu or Gene Roe? That takes out part of your soul, and definitely pulls on the elements in the world. You can’t constantly use magic to do anything or else it will use everything up.”

“So you’re not completely magic reliant,” Leckie said, “you could’ve fooled me with Haldane’s house.”

“Most of what you see in Haldane’s house isn’t magic,” Runner said.

“A lot of people are employed by Haldane, from Kitchen Sprites, to Pixies, to Intellectual Spirits. Anyone who needs a job goes to Haldane and he’ll find them employment and shelter, usually in his own household. It drives Eddie insane, but that’s only because he is in charge of the household accounts,” Chuckler said. 

“This all seems far more complicated than it needs to be,” Leckie said.

“People, even magical ones, are complicated, Leckie,” Runner said. 

They stopped at a house, a cottage really, set far back from the street. There was an old stone fence and a wooden gate which marked off the property. 

“And here we leave you,” Runner said.

“What, you’re afraid to go into Sledge’s house?” Leckie asked.

“More like Chuckler has an appointment with a Dream Interpreter and I promised my cousin I’d help him with his new flock.”

“Smokey got sheep?” Chuckler asked.

“Geese,” Runner said.

“Shouldn’t that be a gaggle?” Leckie asked.

“They’re special geese,” Runner said.

Leckie snorted. “What, do they lay golden eggs?”

“How did you know that?” Runner asked.

“I, just, you’re not serious,” Leckie said.

One of the watch tower bells chimed, marking the half-hour.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Runner said.

Chuckler slapped Leckie on the shoulder. “Best of luck, Wanderer, watch out for the birds.”

“What?” Leckie asked.

“You’ll see,” Chuckler said. 

He watched Chuckler and Runner walk over to what looked like a phone booth where they disappeared once it closed. He shook his head and proceeded down the path to the front door. A fire lit up in what looked like a bird bath, glowing in blue warning flame. He knocked on the round green door, feeling his eyebrows lift when it opened on its own. He looked inside, noting piles of books, scrolls, maps, and drawing pads. It was like a real life hobbit hole.

“Hello,” he called out.

“In the study,” a man’s voice, tinged with a Southern accent called out.

“The study is where?” Leckie asked, cautiously crossing over the door way. 

“Follow the yellow line,” the voice answered. 

Leckie looked down at the floor, where a yellow line suddenly appeared and started pulsing. 

“What, you were out of brick roads,” he muttered as he started walking through the cluttered house.

“Bricks are bad for the ankles and posture,” the voice answered. A young man appeared, red-haired and dark eyed. “Eugene Sledge,” he said, holding out his hand. “Haldane tells me you’re from New York.”

“Most recently, grew up in Jersey.”

“Alabama for me, Mobile.”

“And how’d you get here?”

“Walked into the woods one day and just kept walking.”

“Ah,” Leckie said. He looked around and stopped short at the large owl perched near the windowsill. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Oh, no, Athena was just leaving. She was kind enough to let me sketch her today. It’s why I couldn’t come up to meet you at the Manor. She doesn’t like to go near the city.”

“Athena? Cute. Hedwig was already taken?” Leckie asked. 

Sledge smiled. “Her owner is the fan of the Classics. And predates _Harry Potter_ by a few decades. Not that he’d be the type to read it anyway.”

“Let me guess, Webster.”

“Oh,” Sledge said, “I wasn’t aware you’ve met him yet.”

“I haven’t,” Leckie said.

“Ah,” Sledge said, opening the window for Athena to leave. He pulled on a tattered wool pea coat and grabbed a scarf. “I am sure you’ll meet him soon, but for now, let’s give you a tour of the University.”

Leckie followed Sledge out of the house, skirting around all the trunks and stacks. “Ever think of getting a housekeeper?”

“I like my system,” Sledge said. He locked his door with a large key, while the bird bath burst up with a purple flame before disappearing again.

“I’m sure you’ve seen the entrance to the Manor, and the Watch Keeper section, but the University side is slightly different,” Sledge said. 

“How different?” Leckie asked. 

Sledge pointed his gloved hands to a white tower in horizon. 

“I never thought I’d attend a school with an actual ivory tower,” Leckie said. 

“That makes two of us,” Sledge said.

The townspeople smiled at Sledge, but there was still an obvious wariness in their countenances. A whole large group of people were sitting in front of the University entrance way. It made Leckie smile, the familiar sight of young kids, laughing, gossiping, and sitting in the grass. 

“How long have you been here?” Leckie asked, as they passed through the doors.

“Five years our time, ten years theirs,” Sledge said. 

“And the locals still look at you like that?”

“Ten years still equals the age of a toddler here. I think they’re amazed I don’t manage to burn my home down.”

Leckie was pretty impressed at the quiet, dark halls of the University.

“Most of the activity is in the lecture halls, labs, and the library,” Sledge explained.

Sledge nudged open a massive set of doors, the smell of old books and ink wafting through the air. 

Leckie felt his jaw drop at the massive row upon row of books, tables, and students, which kept going down farther and farther, level after level.

“The Bards believe in promoting higher learning,” Sledge said.

“Clearly,” Leckie said. 

Sledge stayed silent as he led Leckie through the twisting labyrinth of the library halls.

“What did this used to be?” Leckie asked as he ran a hand over the figures sculpted into the wall.

“The whole Manor used to be a summer home of the royal family,” Sledge said. He pushed open a set of wooden doors adorned with copper. “We’re here,” he announced.

Five long wooden tables with attached benches filled the classroom. There was a board on the wall made out of the same material as Haldane’s tablet. 

“So, what do we do now?” Leckie asked.

Sledge handed him a tablet. 

“You learn,” he said.

************

Leckie highly approved of any university library which had its own bar. His mind was still trying to sort out all the shit he’d learned in the introductory course today, but he just felt fried. Sledge looked at him with knowing eyes, clearly having seen all this before. He pushed a pint glass at Leckie.

“I’m not one for drinking, but you clearly need this.”

“Thanks,” Leckie said. The ale was sweet and took some getting used to, but at this point, he couldn’t care less. 

Sledge had a tired, pinched look around his eyes. He reminded Leckie of all the faces he’d ever seen on young men, boys really, losing all signs of peace, innocence, and hope in war. 

“So, you just started walking one day,” Leckie prompted.

“I just started walking one day,” Sledge repeated. “After I got home from over _there_ ,” his tone implying no need to clarify where _there_ was, “nothing made sense, and I just started walking going deeper and deeper into the woods, not even caring it was darker, colder, so late. I passed over a small creek and ended up here.”

“Runner and Chuckler say you have theories about how all our people get here. So how big is the community over here?”

“We have support group meetings and an official government representative,” Sledge said. “Snaf keeps trying to get me to run, but I like being mostly anonymous.” Sledge opened his hand to reveal what looked like a living dancing flame. “This is a fire spirit of knowledge, I call her Jackie.”

“Jackie is her technical name?” Leckie asked.

“It’s the shortened form that I can pronounce. She was the one who introduced me to my work. I help register and categorize the creatures of this land.”

“So, what, you rub ankles with the centaurs and high-five the dragons?”

Sledge smirked. “I like birds,” he said. 

“Hence, Athena,” Leckie said.

Sledge shrugged. “I decided to stay here; I had to find something to do.”

“Why didn’t you go home?” Leckie asked.

Sledge’s smile was full of sadness. “You’ll figure it out,” he said, barely above a whisper.


	2. Two

**Anger**

Sledge dragged Leckie to some support group meeting where the punchbowl tried to eat his hand and the hall was full of flickering orbs of light. Dinner was some version of Shepherd’s Pie that gave Leckie the runs and introduced him to the terrifying concept of the Other Side’s bathrooms. It was a complicated procedure which had Snafu actually rolling around on the floor laughing. 

He didn’t bitch in the morning when his plate of bread and warm milk appeared.

“Maybe you’ll listen to me next time,” Hoosier said as he bit into what looked like a grey papaya.

“Food isn’t supposed to be grey,” Leckie shot back.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a person chew bread with such petulance,” Eddie said from the doorway. “Snaf, Roe’s requested your help again. He’s up at the Ville Healers’ Ward. Hoosier, Shifty needs you to check out some suspicious stone circles. Leckie, you’re with Haldane.”

“You’re not babysitting me today?” Leckie asked.

Eddie shook his head. “Ship’s coming into the port at Lough; I’ve got to be there to meet it.”

“Bring back taffy,” Snafu called.

“Only if you don’t piss Roe or Vera off,” Eddie answered. 

Eddie disappeared through a side door, whistling something reminiscent of a sea shanty as he left. Leckie turned back to the table to make a comment, but it was already empty. People here had a knack for moving silently. 

Leckie walked out into the hallway and looked around. The pictures on the walls were shaking as a thumping sound resonated through the stone and wood architecture. It sounded like claws were clicking on the floor. He cautiously peered out into the main hall. There was a large polar bear running through the house. Leckie slowly blinked and shook his head.

The polar bear was still there. 

Leckie did what any reasonable young man would do when confronted with an apparently raging polar bear. He backed into the kitchen, snuck through one of the secret passages and hauled ass to Haldane’s office.

“You do know there’s a polar bear running through your hallways,” Leckie said, sitting down smoothly and trying not to hyperventilate.

“It’s a werebear,” Haldane explained. “You just met Jay in his other form. He’ll be fine once the sun goes down. He’s a really good archivist, even if he does get overly concerned with semantics.”

“There is so much wrong in that sentence I don’t know where to begin.”

Apparently _that_ was the kind of statement that made Haldane look up from his infinite piles of paperwork and flashing tablets. 

“It troubles me that you think of it as _wrong_ rather than _different_. Have you been to the Support Group?” he asked. 

Leckie crossed his arms over his chest and stared Haldane down. “The punch bowl tried to eat me,” he said. 

“There are no punch bowls—” Haldane paused. “—Leckie, we really need to sign you up for a species identification class. Of course a fruit sprite would try to eat you if it felt like you were attacking its home.”

“Fruit _sprites_?”

Haldane held out a flyer. “Please, for the sake of your limbs, sign up for the Beginner Courses at the Academy.”

“What did I just do yesterday?”

“That was part of the standard welcoming procedure. It is what you’ll need to become a citizen, if you so desire.”

Leckie pointed at the flyer. “And that’s what exactly?”

“It explains the University’s degree programs.”

Leckie snatched the flyer and stuck it in the pocket of his borrowed trousers. “Don’t you think it’s a bad reflection on your border security that so many people from my world have ended up in yours that a university program was created?”

“When the veils are thin there is nothing anyone can do to stop who they take. Few people deliberately crossover, but the exchanges go back past the Dark Days,” Haldane said.

“So, this is some mystical, universal, eye for an eye type thing?” Leckie asked.

Haldane just shook his head. “Sign up for the classes, Leckie. If nothing else, you’ll get a few new books to read.”

The library was tempting, especially if he had an excuse to spend hours traveling its halls. He did need something to do; he’d never been one for idle times. It’s not that Leckie didn’t appreciate time to think, or being alone with his thoughts, but he needed a purpose. Two days of sitting on his ass and meeting new people was rattling his nerves.

“Can I sit in on a real class or something, see if I like it?” he asked.

Haldane smiled at Leckie like an owner smiled at a puppy who managed to pee on the newspaper. It wasn’t exactly complimentary. 

“I am sure Professor Luz won’t mind having a visitor in his lecture hall. You will need to take your Handbook.”

“But it makes such a good doorstop,” Leckie said.

“Have you even bothered to read it?” Haldane asked.

Leckie flinched under the direct gaze. It was like sitting in front of Sister Maria Agnes again, explaining just why he had to let all the lizards out of the biology classroom.

“You’re a grown man, Leckie, and I shouldn’t have to tell you what to do with your life, or give you an ultimatum, but you need to open that book before you walk into Professor Luz’s classroom.”

“You’re giving me homework?”

“I will not have you disrespect the University and Professor Luz by walking into the classroom and assuming you know better than everyone who has lived here for years.”

Leckie rolled his eyes. “You know me so well, Haldane.”

Haldane stared Leckie down. He didn’t need to say anything, it was clear, there in his calm, glowing gaze, that he’d seen many men just like Leckie, and seen them fall and fail under their bravado. 

Hubris did always come with a sharp sting and an occasional falling on a sword.

Leckie stood up and dusted some invisible lint off his shirt. 

“I’ll just go look over that book.”

Haldane was kind enough not to say anything in response.

 

************

 

If Bob Leckie ever met the editors of _The Wanderer’s Handbook_ he would personally love to break every last one of their fingers. He was only four pages in and he’d already found fifty grammatical errors and seventy-eight typos. 

Though it did kill part of his soul to realize a land possessed of magical fairies did, in fact, have better computer software than anything on his side of the divide.

“Aren’t you people supposed to have issues with technology and science?” Leckie asked.

He was camped out in Sledge’s home office. It was much easier to concentrate and read here than any room in the Manor. For one thing, it was warmer. For another, it didn’t have any raging were-animals.

“Half of magic is science, the rest of it involves replacing things common in our world with their own, but let’s face it, they have longer lives and more time to redesign and perfect the minutiae,” Sledge said.

“Or we have a bunch of intellectual spirits instead of 0s and 1s,” Hoosier said. 

“Why are you here again?” Leckie asked. 

“Shifty wanted to see his good friend. I just thought I’d tag along.”

“Because it’s not like you have a job to do or anything,” Leckie said.

“Someone has a short temper this afternoon. Did Papa Haldane give you a scolding?” Hoosier asked.

Leckie’s retort was ruined by the loud laughter that came from Shifty. Leckie didn’t know what Shifty was, besides a male who appeared human, but he wasn’t making any assumptions around these people. He knew one thing though; he sure as hell wasn’t a regular being. Shifty had a stillness about him no human could naturally achieve, and occasionally, when he turned his head there was a flash of something in his eyes, an ancient knowledge hidden behind his youthful face. There was certainly more to Shifty than he presented to the casual passerby.

Leckie turned back to the book in his hands. “Sledge, will I get publicly flogged for editing this book?” he asked. 

“Not unless you want to,” Sledge said.

“What about burning?” Leckie asked.

“That might get you dragged into the town square for a punishment,” Sledge said.

“Which means Haldane will just look at you very sadly and shake his head,” Hoosier said. He was throwing a crystal ball up and down in the air and it took every last ounce of Leckie’s   
restraint not to make an obvious wizard joke.

“And the woodland dwellers might look down on your burning one of their cousins,” Shifty said. He sat perched on the edge of Sledge’s fireplace, a sketchbook in his lap and fingers covered in the dust of drawing charcoal. Shifty was studying something in the distance, occasionally chiming in on the conversation. 

“Woodland dwellers?” Leckie asked.

“Basically Ents,” Sledge said.

“Ents or Apple Throwing Monsters from Oz?” Leckie asked.

Sledge paused in his notes. “I honestly can’t say. I’ve never bothered the Walkers of the Woods. Haldane told me to stay away, so I did,” he said.

“There’s a whole section on them in your Handbook,” Hoosier said. “You could try reading what’s within the pages instead of criticizing it.”

“I have an editor’s eye,” Leckie said.

Hoosier smirked. “I can’t wait until you meet Webster.”

Shifty guffawed at that, shaking so hard he dropped his sketchbook, a visible glow encasing his person before fading away. 

Leckie really just wanted one hour to pass where he didn’t feel like he was stuck in an acid trip. 

 

*************

Two weeks on the Other Side had Leckie’s nerves at their final end. He could feel himself approaching the edge and staring over into the abyss. He needed to get the hell out of here, but everyone was pretty damn quiet about when that would be. No one, not even Runner or Chuckler, would give him a straight answer. Everyone just told him to read the Handbook-cum-doorstop and adjust.

Leckie didn’t want to adjust, he just wanted to go the hell home. 

Haldane was apparently trying to distract Leckie from his thoughts by introducing him to all sorts of characters. He’d finally met the elusive Roe, he who somehow managed to keep Snafu and Hoosier in order and compliant. Their meeting hadn’t been for long thankfully. Something about Roe made Leckie want to flee. His unflinching gaze was completely unsettling; it contained a knowledge and a perception similar to the way Snafu looked at people. Or looked through and into them, rather. 

“So what are Roe and Shelton exactly?” Leckie asked Haldane one dark and stormy morning. 

Haldane was clearly struggling to find the easiest way to answer, which was never a good sign. 

“Uh,” he paused. It was never good when Haldane resorted to an _uh_. “Roe is what happens when a Reaper and a Healer produce. It creates a unique duality in the soul that very few can survive with their sanity intact. Shelton is our closest equivalent to a coroner. He’s not a Reaper, he’s not Death himself, but he can read the body of the dead, discern the last images in their minds. Officially he’s a Reader of the Last Thought.”

“He must always be in business.”

Haldane smiled. “Not so much, really, not on this side of the divide. We aren’t exactly lacking in ghosts and undead populations here.”

Leckie sat back, sinking into the plush chair of Haldane’s study. “I hope you know how very fucked up this all is.”

“Maybe to you,” Eddie said, emerging from a side door. “You must remember, Robert Leckie, this is not your world. To us, you’re the fucked up one.”

“Hell, Eddie, I’m fucked up in my own world too.”

“Then maybe it’s time to embrace a change,” Eddie said. His eyes glowed; shining with that hint of other-worldly that surrounded him.

“I think dropping into another world and not losing my mind is enough change embracing for a decade,” Leckie said.

“I would agree with you if you didn’t spend every waking moment thinking about getting home,” Eddie said.

“Then tell me, All Wise and Powerful Oz, what would you have me to do?” Leckie asked.

Eddie smiled, it was more dangerous than friendly, but his answer was one sentence. “I would have you open yourself to the wonder of our world.”

Leckie was about to give him a very crass counter-argument about where he could take his _wonder_ but he was cut off by a slew of guttural sounding words from Haldane.

“Translator didn’t pick up on that one,” Leckie said.

“It only works with the modern tongues,” Eddie said, his jaw visibly clenched.

Leckie instinctively shrank back into his chair. He’d never seen Haldane or Eddie angry with each other. It didn’t feel right. There was a tangible charge of electricity in the air as they waged a war through dark glares and grim expressions. Obviously no relationship was perfect, but no one liked it when the parents fought.

Eddie left the room after stating something that could only be a curse. Leckie swore he heard the sound of rolling thunder as he left the house.

“Trouble in paradise?” Leckie asked. 

Haldane looked at him as if he couldn’t imagine the gall. His nostrils actually flared before the spell broke and he shook his head.

“Your mouth will cost you your life one day, Leckie,” Haldane said.

“My mother always said something along those lines,” he agreed. 

“Do not worry yourself over my partner’s actions. He is not himself at this time of year.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Leckie said. “That wasn’t just a fight for a fight’s sake. Pardon the language, but he’s pissed the fuck off.”

Haldane shrugged. “I love him like no other and he feels the same. That does not require that we always like each other or our personal actions. A life shared is a practice in compromise, but there are times, no matter how hard you try, where no easy resolution presents itself.”

“Spoken like an old married man.” Leckie gestured to the doorway. “How long have you two been looked in matrimony anyway?”

“Honestly,” Haldane said, staring out at dark clouds, “I lost count after the first five centuries.”

Leckie dropped his book on the floor. “Your marriage is older than my country.”

“I have told you, time flows differently here,” Haldane said.

“Right, which means you’ve been married far longer than a lifetime,” Leckie said. “How the hell have you not killed each other yet?”

A small smile finally made its way across Haldane’s lips. “I assure you, being with him is not a hardship.”

 

***************

 

Hoosier woke Leckie up one morning by turning his mattress over. 

“What the fuck, man?” Leckie asked as his face met the floor.

“Apparently the Archivists in the big castle need more documentation on you and your unique entry into our world. We’ve got to go see Jay.”

“And you couldn’t wake me up like a normal goddamned person?” Leckie asked, untangling his covers and stalking over to his dresser. 

“Little cold?” Hoosier asked, openly staring at him.

“Fuck you,” Leckie muttered as he pulled on a pair of pants.

Hoosier smirked. “Don’t know if you can with that,” he said. 

“Do you people have any sense of boundaries or common decency?” he asked through the fabric of his shirt as he pulled it over his head.

“We’re not ashamed of our bodies,” Hoosier said. “Hell, if Snafu had his way, that boy would never put on clothes.”

“Good for you,” Leckie muttered. He’d never put on shoes while so pissed off before, but hell, Eddie told him to embrace change. So here he was, embracing it just fucking fine.

“You going to do something about that hair and breath?” Hoosier asked.

Leckie gave him the finger as he stalked into his bathroom. He was used to starting his morning with ice cold water. There was a way to heat it, but Leckie didn’t want to mess with a fire element before breakfast. With the luck he had lately, he’d end up burning half the place down. He finished cleaning up and stomped out of his room, Hoosier trailing behind in his typical silent smugness. 

Jay De L'Eau was the were-bear who also ran the University’s library. Leckie didn’t know the proper protocol for greeting someone who spent half their time as Ursa Major, but apparently it involved a lot of sniffing.

“I just have to catalogue you,” Jay said. “This way we don’t have to worry about you getting eaten.”

Leckie laughed.

“That wasn’t a joke,” Jay said. “Why does everyone always thing that’s a joke.”

“The last time I saw a bear was on TV,” Leckie said. “I just, I’m used to my bears being in nature documentaries, not sitting across from me in human form asking me how to spell my name.”

“And do you prefer Robert or Bob?” Jay asked.

“Leckie,” he said. “Everyone always calls me Leckie. I can take the other two just fine, as long as no one calls me Bobby.”

“Do you find the name degrading?” Jay asked, stylus poised over his tablet.

“For anyone over the age of ten? Yes.”

He didn’t have to look at Hoosier to see the smile forming.

“Don’t even _think_ it,” Leckie hissed. 

“Too late, Bobby,” Hoosier said. 

“Why is this necessary?” Leckie asked, turning back to Jay.

Jay sighed, a sound only perfected by administration staff and clerical workers. “Besides the fact that your entry into our world involved you in an unconscious state, unheard of in all the archived crossings, your lack of any activity outside of the Manor worries the Council.”

“The Council?” Leckie asked.

“The Council of Wanderers,” Jay said, “it’s headed by David Webster.”

“Everyone keeps mentioning that name, but I’ve never met him. Look, if I have to meet him and shake his hand so you guys don’t make me do a piss test once a month, point me in the right direction. I just want to get home and I’ll do whatever it takes to make the process go faster. I don’t want to be stuck here because of bureaucratic red tape. It’s already been a month of waiting.”

“You’ve not read the Handbook,” Jay stated. 

“I started it,” Leckie muttered, “but it made my literature loving soul weep. Forcing me to finish that would be both cruel and unusual.”

“Your doom shall lie in your own hands,” Jay declared, making a notation on his tablet.

“You’re a cheery little bear cub, aren’t you,” Leckie said. 

“Bobby, don’t piss the bear off,” Hoosier said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “We done, Jay?”

“For now,” Jay said. He gathered up his documents, plucking a single hair from Leckie’s head, before exiting.

“Are all the bears like that?” Leckie asked.

“I think it’s just _you_ ,” Hoosier said. “You ready for a lunch? I’m ready for a lunch, soup, I think. We should go to Malark’s. Makes the best soup this side of the mountains.”

“You’re rambling. I sense avoidance,” Leckie said. 

“Just want to keep that wool over your eyes for a bit longer,” Hoosier admitted. 

“So, soup?” Leckie asked.

Hoosier nodded and led Leckie out of the city gates, toward the river source. It was mostly open land out there. Some ominous woods in the distance and mountains even further out. There were few homes out here, though a rooftop or two could be seen over the hills' crests. 

“Who is this Malark exactly?”

“He runs the kitchen at The Grounded Brigantine. It’s a tavern,” Hoosier explained.

“Can’t make much of a business out here,” Leckie said, looking around at the emptiness.

“His clientele doesn’t exactly want to pass through the city walls,” Hoosier said.

“Does Haldane know you break your bread with thieves and highway men?” Leckie asked.

“He might not, but Eddie sure as hell does,” Hoosier said. “They don’t exactly keep the same company, if you didn’t notice. Eddie’s a bit rougher around the edges and can get restless trapped on land too long. The Grounded Brigantine’s probably the closest he feels to home out here.”

Hoosier pointed to a dark shape in the distance. “We’re almost there.”

The Grounded Brigantine was indeed just that. Leckie had never been in a bar that was a ship, outside of that time on the Queen Mary, but this brigantine was now fused with the earth. Leckie didn’t even want to try and figure out how it all fit. He had a feeling the sailors over here weren’t dressed up like Doughboys. 

Hoosier pushed Leckie up the ramp and on to the deck, where the tables were bustling with card and dice games, bills and coins passing through hands under the burning sun. 

“Wizard,” a laughing female voice called out, “I hope you don’t plan on starting any fires again.” A woman emerged from inside the galley, her eyes amused but still darting to Leckie, sizing him up like the outsider he was.

Hoosier bowed low. “My gorgeous, generous, gregarious Captain Stella, I swear to you I shall not allow Grant to get me so drunk again. I brought a good influence with me,” Hoosier said, gesturing to Leckie, “and am merely here to sample Malarkey’s great soup.”

Stella shook her head. “It’s a good thing you don’t depend on your bardic skills for your supper,” she said. She held open the door. “Come inside then, no need to let in all that sunlight.”

It was only his years of ingrained New Yorker Indifference that kept him from gaping at the inside of The Grounded Brigantine. It was huge, easily equal to the size of Haldane’s welcoming hall, and far too wide from what the exterior showed. 

“The ship’s magic, isn’t it?” Leckie asked.

“It was built by Sidhe and Siren hands they claim,” Stella said. “All I know is that I won it off Malarkey in a bet. I don’t know why he bothers. He’s a horrible gambler.”

“Aren’t pirates supposed to kick off and murder the remaining crew?” Leckie asked.

“Not when they’d need to hire a whole new wait and kitchen-staff,” Hoosier said. He sat down at one of the corner tables, forcibly pulling Leckie down with him. “Stop overanalyzing. It’s just a bar where you will eat soup and enjoy some truly filthy sea shanties.”

“Is that an order?” Leckie asked.

“I doubt you’re the type for taking orders Leckie, unless they’re ones you want to follow,” Hoosier said. 

“You think you know me that well?” Leckie asked.

“I think you’re not half as mysterious as you like to think,” Hoosier said.

Leckie didn’t have a proper response to that and was too tried to engage in yet another battle of words with Hoosier. So he sat back, enjoyed his atrociously good soup, and listened to the bawdiest ballads this side of the Dark Ages.

 

************

There was a fury burning under Leckie’s skin. He knew it was coming, biding its time to explode at the most inopportune moment. He’d always had a temper, hard not to, being the youngest child in a family of too many kids, doing everything to get attention. Doing anything to be heard. If there was one thing, just one simple thing, Bob Leckie absolutely abhorred, it was being ignored. It turned him from a slightly short-temped but rational man into an emotional version of the Hulk.

And right now? He really fucking felt like he was being ignored.

All his requests to find out more about when and how he could go back home were rebuffed, shrugged off, or redirected. He was one good argument away from yelling _I’m not going to be ignored, Dan_ and it was never, ever good when _Fatal Attraction_ levels were reached. 

No one would tell him the exact way and manner of how he’d get home. Everyone seemed unable to provide an accurate timeline, even people who clearly knew things things like Little Bear himself, Jay De L’eau. And he couldn’t decide what pissed him off more, the knowing smirks on Hoosier and Snafu’s faces, the disappointed looks from Haldane, or the fact that Sledge, who knew exactly what the hell Leckie was going through, wouldn’t give a concrete answer. 

So Leckie had taken to avoiding them all. He woke up angry, he went to bed pissed off, and in between he spent his days enraged, livid, and irate. He passed far too many hours at The Grounded Brigantine, learning the rules and perfect cheats for Mermaids and Spades. He’d taken to sitting next to Chuckler while he took up his guard duty station. He just couldn’t understand the general lack of response. Ignorance might have been bliss but it grated on Leckie’s nerves. He had to know. He had plans to make, damn it. He needed an end date. 

“Have you read your Handbook yet?” Runner asked, flopping down beside him.

“If one more person asks me that I’m going to punch them in the face,” Leckie said, shredding a blade of grass in his hands.

“You sure you don’t have troll blood somewhere in your family?” Chuckler asked.

“Aren’t you supposed to stay silent?” Leckie asked.

“He’s physically incapable of that,” Runner said. 

“You really want to go there?” Chuckler asked, nudging his partner with a booted foot. 

Leckie was far too annoyed to deal with a lover’s spat so he just threw a hand up. “Frank, Alice, focus here.”

Chuckler sighed and straightened up. “Haldane’s forbidding us from telling you,” he said.

“What the actual fuck?” Leckie asked.

Runner rested a hand on Leckie’s shoulder. “It’s not something as simple as being supplied with a date on the calendar or by the phase of the moon. You have to be ready.”

“I _am_ ready,” Leckie bitched. 

Runner and Chuckler both stayed infuriatingly silent.

“There you are,” Sledge said, settling down beside him. “Haldane was worried you’d hitched a ride down the river.”

“The only river rafting I know of comes via Mark Twain,” Leckie said.

“You’re definitely no Huck Finn,” Sledge agreed. 

“What brings you out here?” Leckie asked. He was in no mood for banter or bullshit.

“The head of the Council wants to see you.”

“Which Council? City, State, School Board, Watcher’s?” Leckie asked.

“Wanderers,” Sledge said, barely amused. “Webster wants to meet you.”

“Should I be honored?” Leckie asked.

“Webster would certainly think so,” Chuckler muttered. 

“Not a fan,” Leckie guessed, noticing the rare pass of annoyance on Chuckler’s face. Anyone who ruined Chuckler’s sense of humor had to be an asshole.

Runner shrugged. “Depends on how far you like you head up your ass.”

Sledge tsked in disapproval. “Webster’s a proud man, there’s no way of denying that, but his intentions are good.”

“Surely I don’t have to tell you about good intentions and the road to Hell,” Leckie said. Sledge had a whole collection of bibles in his home, all full of worn covers and penciled notations. 

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing you don’t have to worry about Judeo-Christian ideology over here,” Sledge said. He looked up at the sky. “It’s time for us to go.”

“And where does this Webster live?” 

“He’s going to meet you in the library,” Sledge said.

“Doesn’t trust me enough to welcome me into his home?” 

“Webster knows nothing of the rules of hospitality,” Chuckler said.

“He sounds like a charmer,” Leckie muttered.

Sledge’s lips briefly quirked into a smile. “No more so than you.”

 

************

Webster looked like any poor little rich boy you’d find ordering fruity drinks in some fancy Manhattan bar. He wore clothing that looked more expensive than Haldane’s, and had the type of chiseled jaw that could make him handsome if it wasn’t for his arrogant expression. He looked like the poster boy for hipster ennui. He hadn’t even spoken yet and already Leckie was desperate to get out of here. 

He could see why people compared the two of them. They both had curly dark hair; though Leckie had a feeling Webster wasn’t so proud of his possible Irish genes. They both had light eyes and an apparent penchant for sarcasm, arrogance, and smirks. Leckie couldn’t help but note that while he was more prone to crooked smiles, Webster seemed incapable of keeping his mouth shut, even while flipping through documents. The only thing he could think was _mouth breather_. 

It was clear, as Webster sat behind his grand desk, that he felt important in his position. From what Sledge told him earlier, Webster was forced into the position, never actually campaigned for it. The former Council chairman got tired of having all his decisions so verbally derided. Apparently Webster owned quite the busy printing press and had no problem distributing pamphlets full of his own opinions. 

“Robert Leckie,” Webster said in a tone of voice that grated on his nerves. “It appears you are having trouble adjusting.”

“Beg pardon,” Leckie said, sprawled out in his chair. “I thought you were a Councilman not a shrink.”

“I am a bit of both,” Webster said. He held up a copy of the thrice-be-damned Handbook. “You refuse to read your Handbook, why is that?”

“Because my senile Aunt Matilda could do a better job editing it,” Leckie said. 

“I was the main editor of this book,” Webster said, “and I can assure you it is up to all academic standards.”

Leckie scoffed. “If you’re talking about academic standards from the time of Thomas Jefferson’s and Patrick Henry’s epic run-on sentences, than, yes, you are correct. A whole team of editors and ghostwriters couldn’t make that tome a best-seller. If it wasn’t required reading for the university courses, I’d doubt anyone would finish it.”

Webster jaw tightened and he looked down at this tablet. “Mr. De L’Eau notes you are a journalist. Clearly you’ve yet to learn the difference between reporting stories and being a true writer.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind Leckie could hear a voice clearly stating _oh, no he didn’t_. It sounded scarily like his cousin Evan. 

“I’m pretty sure it means I actually know a thing or two about writing and editing,” Leckie said. He tried, desperately, not to throw one of the books on the floor at Webster’s head. “What are your credentials other than editing some verbose instruction manual?”

“I went to Harvard,” Webster argued.

Leckie felt his brow rise. “You have a degree in Creative Writing from Harvard?”

“I attended,” Webster clarified.

“Oh, that doesn’t make a slightest bit of difference,” Leckie muttered. He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t care if I have to kiss your ass and claim your writing deserves a Pulitzer if it gets me out of here. I just want to go the hell _home_. Don’t any of you people understand that?”

“We understand just fine, Mr. Leckie,” Webster said, voice condescending and monotone. “You seem to misunderstand why we can’t just let you wander off. This world has a right to its protection, just like the one we come from, and no one is going to let you march off back to your home planet if you’re clearly a maladjusted individual and a security risk.”

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Leckie asked. He stood up and started pacing. “Don’t you people have some sort of Bill of Rights here? Couldn’t this all be construed as keeping me against my will.”

“It’s clearly stated in the Handbook that withholding the decision to return is for both the protection of the Wanderer and this world. And furthermore, you are essentially a visitor in these lands. Your rights are limited, save what the Council will do for you, and with your behavior I honestly don’t see the need to put my neck out for someone so ungrateful.”

“Do you understanding the fucking insanity that is coming out of your mouth?” Leckie asked.

“I believe that it’s only idle minds who allow themselves to use crass language. Mr. Leckie, do you honestly think your case is so special that it doesn’t deserve the same treatment of everyone who crosses over here?”

“Considering the fact I was fucking asleep at the time, something your bear cub friend Mr. De L’Eau confirmed isn’t natural, I’m going to have to say, hell yes.”

Webster shook his head and made a notation on his tablet. He stood up from his desk, gathering his papers and stuffing them in a leather case. “Mr. Leckie, no one desires to keep you here against your own will, but it will be irresponsible to let you return next year with you flatly refusing to acknowledge and process what’s going on around you.”

“Next _year_?” Leckie asked.

“Read your Handbook,” Webster said.

“I didn’t fucking ask for this,” Leckie spat at as Webster passed him.

Webster’s face was somber and honest if only for a brief moment. “None of us did,” he said. He nodded and left Leckie alone in the office. 

 

**************

Leckie was still fuming when he burst into Sledge’s house. He couldn’t spend the night at the Manor. He needed to be around someone who, at the very least, understood just why Leckie was so pissed off.

Sledge was sympathetic, like always, his eyes telling more of what he’d seen than conversation. He simply led Leckie to the fireside, pressed a glass of rum into his hand, and let him have his silence.

“How did Webster get here?” Leckie asked, twirling the tumbler between his fingers.

Sledge looked up from his latest drawing, eyes going unfocused as he thought. “Webster came from California, though a few decades prior,” he said, taking up his charcoal again. “You were probably just a kid when he arrived. The way I hear it told, he just went out sailing one day and wound up here.”

“He actually sailed into Fiddler’s Green?”

“Or something like that,” Sledge said. He dusted off his hands and stood up, walking over to one of the massive bookshelves until he found his prize. “A ha,” he said and handed Leckie a worn and tattered book. “Webster doesn’t really talk to anyone except the Sirens, but this is his journal, or Captain’s Log, whatever you want to call it.”

“Sirens, eh? That’s not just a tribe name, then? They really are real.”

Sledge stared at him.

“What?” Leckie asked.

“Bob, _you’ve_ met a Siren. Hell, you live in his house.”

“Andy’s not a Siren.”

“No, he’s not. Andy’s by all means a Changeling. Eddie, however, is a very much a Siren.”

“But,” Leckie said and shook his head. “Hell, I forgot that. He introduced himself that way. I just thought he was, like, connected to them. Not a Siren-Siren.”

Sledge sighed and pulled out a stack of magazines. “Snaf could tell you what issue it’s in, but one of these copies of _Which Witch_ contains the write up of how the child of an Autumn Sidhe and Bard met a Siren from the Seventh Sea.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Leckie said.

“You don’t know how much I wish I was. It was a royal wedding, biggest thing to hit here since chocolate.”

“A royal _what_?” Bob asked.

“Wedding. Prince Aindrea of the Sidhe and Prince Eideard of the Sirens. It was an arranged marriage, a political coup that the Council wanted for centuries.”

“Which Council was that again?” Leckie asked.

“Elders in Ville,” Sledge replied. 

Leckie leaned back, resting Webster’s journal on his lap and pressing the cool glass against his forehead. 

“Sledge, this is all so very fucked up.” He started laughing; he couldn’t stop, not even when the tears started running down his face.

“What the hell am I going to do?” he asked. 

Sledge rested a warm hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get you home, Bob, I promise. I’m on your side, so are Haldane and Eddie. If push comes to shove we’ll make Hoosier force Webster to sign your transfer papers. But we’ll get you home, Leckie, and we’ll get you there whole.”


	3. Three

**Bargaining**

Occasionally Bob Leckie was given over to the wisdom of keeping his mouth shut. It meant that Haldane was giving him more concerned looks than usual, but at this point, Leckie really was willing to sacrifice his pride to get his ass home.

He’d read a passage from Webster’s diary, one that stated there was a way to get home without signed transfer papers or a waiting period. He just needed access to the High Security Clearance shelves of the library. He had a feeling that access was above Hoosier’s pay grade. 

“What the hell are you up to,” Hoosier asked over lunch at The Grounded Brigantine.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Leckie said, digging into his soup.

“Uh-huh,” Hoosier said.

“Would I lie to you, a 21st Level Wizard,” Leckie asked.

“20th Level,” Hoosier corrected, “and I’m almost at the 19th.”

“Again, would I lie to you?”

“In a heartbeat,” Hoosier said. He ripped off a piece of bread and chewed it while studying Leckie. “It helps that you’re a shit liar and incapable of hiding the signs. Just don’t do anything that will get Haldane in trouble. He’s got enough to deal with; he doesn’t need to ride to Ville in order to defend your stupidity.”

Leckie held up his hands in surrender. “I swear I’m doing nothing to get Haldane beheaded or thrown in jail.”

“I noticed you didn’t include yourself in that statement,” Hoosier said.

Leckie pointed at Hoosier’s plate. “Just eat your food, Hoosier. Christ, stop being so paranoid.”

“I _will_ find out what you’re up to.”

“I have no doubts,” Leckie agreed. 

There was a different feeling to The Grounded Brigantine that night, the normal crowd seemed on edge, and everyone was giving a dark-haired man at the bar a wide berth. Not that Leckie could blame them; it looked like steam was flowing from the man’s nostrils. 

“What’s that guy’s problem?”

Hoosier turned around and laughed. “That _guy_ is a dragon in his human form.”

Leckie felt his face go blank. There were some things a person just wasn’t meant to here over dinner. _Oh, that’s the local dragon_ was high on that list. He wasn’t sure the proper way to respond, but instinct led him to, “You’re shitting me.”

“Why don’t you go poke the dragon and ask. They call him Speirs, guess how he got that name,” Hoosier drawled.

Speirs didn’t look all that friendly for a magical dragon. More Smaug than Puff. 

“Does he have, like, a hoard?”

“Don’t all dragons,” Hoosier said. He conjured a book out of thin air. “This is the listing of the residents with the most wealth. At the top of that list, above all the royal families, trolls, and other dragons, is Speirs.” He let the book drop on Leckie’s lap. “You really should read your Handbook one of these days.”

“Admittance is the first step to acceptance,” Leckie muttered. He flipped through the pages, admiring the skill and craftsmanship that went into the book. He scanned the section on Speirs. “He’s friends with the Reeve of Huntington?”

“Oh, yeah, Carwood,” Hoosier said, pausing to take a swig of his drink. “He’s never actually run for the position but keeps getting re-elected because Speirs likes to chat with him. And never tried to set him on fire or eat him. It’s one reason why Huntington is seeing an increase in their profits. Speirs finally stopped eating their sheep.”

“The dragon’s in love with the reeve,” Leckie asked, just to clarify.

Hoosier shrugged. “You can’t tell me that’s the strangest thing you’ve ever heard.”

Leckie smirked. “My idea of _strange_ has changed greatly since coming here.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Hoosier said. 

Leckie held up his glass in a mock toast, but his attention was drawn back to the book. 

“Where did you get this from?”

“The library,” Hoosier said.

“You just stole a book from the library. God, Brother Bear must hate you.”

“Jay doesn’t like it when you call him that,” Hoosier said. “Besides, I’ll put it back once you’re done molesting it. It’s bound in mermaid skin in case you’re wondering.”

Leckie dropped the book on the table and shook his hands. “That’s disgusting.”

“It’s an ancient book from a time when the world was harsher,” Hoosier said.

“I thought those were current records,” Leckie said.

“They are,” Hoosier answered. “It’s an ever-expanding book.”

“Of course it is,” Leckie muttered. He shouldn’t still be surprised by these things, but each day brought something more seemingly impossible into his life. 

“I’ll send the book back if it bothers you that much,” Hoosier said, holding out his hands, a pale golden ring already forming in his palms.

“Nah,” Leckie said, “I’ll do it. I’ve got to stop by the library anyway.”

“No matter what you say, Jay’s not going to change to your organizational system,” Hoosier said.

“For once I will concede defeat in that matter. Clearly the Library of Congress is no match for whatever the hell the University uses.”

Hoosier just snorted and went back to his meal. 

************

“Do you know where this goes?” Leckie asked, carefully dropping the record book on Jay’s desk.

“Hoosier,” Jay said, a growl at the back of his throat. “How would that wizard like it if I decided to just up and liberate stuff from his quarters without telling him.”

“He does this a lot?”

“He has no respect for the needs of climate-controlled rooms and ancient papers,” Jay said.

Leckie nodded in sympathy. “I’m indirectly the reason for why he decided to steal this book, so I’d only feel right about putting it back in its proper place.”

Jay looked almost shocked. “Perhaps you’re not a completely hopeless case after all.”

“I’ll try to take that as a compliment,” Leckie said, doing his best to hold back his natural retorts.

“Hoosier just sends the books back with no regard to the system. I cannot tell you how often I find herb manuals mixed in with the children’s literature. Honestly it’s an abuse of power.”

He jotted down some notes and sketched out a map on one of the tablets. “That will show you how to get to the County Records section. I’m afraid few pass that way, outside of the tax collectors and property managers.”

“Not everyone’s a fan of local statistics,” Leckie said. “They’re not exactly an engaging subject matter.”

“They can be for what they reveal,” Jay argued. “For example, that book in your hands, it lists the wealthiest citizens of our lands. It shows which creatures and what occupations are more inclined to garner wealth. It shows what Royal and Noble families have true wealth and which just have titles. It offers the first bits of evidence for possible research questions. Why is it that a dragon is on the top of the list? How has he remained at the top for as long as anyone’s memory reaches? I find the Records a fascinating subject.”

“And they’ve got to help you on your way to hibernation,” Leckie said.

Jay chose not to respond to that one. He simply tapped the tablet and the map lit up like some _Atari_ -version GPS. 

Leckie was hoping he’d have a chance to sneak up to the High Clearance racks, but he had no doubt Jay had rigged the tablet to alert him if Leckie dared deviated from the path. 

All he needed was to find out just where the _hell_ the elves lived. The Other Side seemed to be lacking a North Pole, and none of the globes or pamphlets in the Watch Keeper’s office showed an elven settlement. 

Webster’s journal noted that while the elves weren’t Realm Jumpers, they could sometimes be persuaded to tear open the divide. They needed to be properly compensated of course. It never said if Webster actually tried such a thing, and Leckie wasn’t about to ask the man, but it was a theory worth exploring.

Anything to get him home quicker. 

He was startled to find actual filing cabinets in the County Records sections. It just seemed so pedestrian for a library attached to a castle run by magical creatures. It was so absurdly mundane that if he wasn’t in a library, he would’ve burst out laughing. 

The tablet had only shown the room, not where the book was supposed to go, and there were no carts or tables for sorting and shelving. “Where the hell am I supposed to put this,” Leckie said out loud. 

One of the filing cabinet drawers rolled open.

“Sentient filing cabinets like Haldane’s, of course.” He carefully placed the book inside, trying not to shudder as his fingers passed over the mermaid skin. 

He looked around the room, it wasn’t large, or full of endless cabinets, but he had an odd feeling nothing was quite what it seemed. He tapped the cabinet drawer in front of him. “Why do I have a feeling you’re much bigger on the inside.”

Leckie strolled over to the middle of the room and looked around. “Can anyone give me a map of the elvish settlements?” 

There was no reply. He remembered that Haldane said he was part Autumn Sidhe, not an Autumn elf, but Leckie wouldn’t put it past Webster to not use the proper term on this side of the divide.

“How about some maps of the Sidhe Settlements?”

Five drawers flew open with a plethora of documents floating out. 

“Now this is some magical bullshit that I approve of,” he said, walking over to the closest stack. 

************

“You finally seem to be adjusting well,” Eddie observed while they took up a Watch Keeper shift. 

“You can’t fight City Hall,” Leckie muttered while refilling the pamphlet shelf. 

Eddie softly laughed. “You are a strange, tiny man, Robert Leckie.”

“Why, Eddie, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Oh, you’re still full of shit and up to something,” he said with nonchalant honesty, “but at least you’re no longer trying to kill all of us with your eyes.”

“You all act as if I’m some unnatural abomination for getting angry over being dropped here.”

“The grief is only natural. However, I’ve never seen one cling so stubbornly to the unrealistic notion of going home early as much as you.”

“I’m not grieving,” Leckie said, ignoring the rest of Eddie’s statement.

“Of course you are. Your life span is so short, so fleeting, that even the smallest of matters seem significant to you. You are grieving for what you see as lost time and lost opportunities, rather than embracing the truly unique experience before you.”

“Does Haldane know he’s married to a pompous jackass?”

“He certainly has no trouble taking them in, even when they are random strangers.”

Leckie glared at him. “I’m starting to suspect that Hoosier and Snafu learned their _delightful_ personalities quirks from you.”

“And to think, Jay had you pegged as Nature over Nurture.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Leckie cursed. “I do not need backroom psychology from my own world administered by a Siren and a man who turns into a bear.”

“Very interesting,” Eddie said in a perfect mockery of Bugs Bunny as Freud.

“Okay, now you’re just being an asshole.”

Eddie laughed. “When they brought over your cartoons, Sledge was at his wit’s end trying to explain them. Webster didn’t even bother. The artists in Ville have attempted to recreate them, but I fear we are much more a land for song and story-telling.”

The Realm Jumpers brought all sorts of things with them, but Leckie never bothered to ask just where they were housed. Not that he was in desperate need of a _Disney_ fix, but he could use some help from _MacGyver_.

“Where do they keep all the things they bring back?” Leckie asked.

Eddie walked over to the map case and unrolled a black one. As he spread it out, it lit it up with images projecting off the page like some warped version of 3-D. Eddie tapped the map and the images formed into clear pictures of buildings.

“Each of our large cities has an archive, or a library, or some sort of storage facility. Some are devoted to culture, others to medicine and some, like our library here, to various disciplines. The largest facility is in Ville of course, where the royal family and the Court reside. Each of the cities has a Realm Jumper representative and they bring back the artifacts and maintain the archives for their cities. We have contacts in your world who helps us convert our currency. The Realm Jumpers and the contacts purchase objects on subjects that were either requested or are of general interest.”

“Quite a smuggling black market scheme you’ve got going on here,” Leckie said. He fought the urge to poke the images projecting off the map. “People from here settle over there too?”

“It’s a rite of passage for recently turned adults to join their local Real Jumper on a journey to the Other Side. Clearly a bit of magic and disguise is required for people like Jay and Bull, but your current generations seem overall to be much more accepting of those who look just a little off.”

“Whole careers have been built around it,” Leckie agreed. He tried to remember the Sidhe settlements he’d seen on the library’s maps. “You say this map shows all the settlements?”

“Not _all_ of them,” Eddie said. “Some places are kept off the grids for safety reasons.”

“What about the Sidhe,” Leckie asked.

Eddie openly studied Leckie for a moment. “Please don’t tell me you’re that stupid.” 

“It’s an honest inquiry,” Leckie argued.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a shitty liar,” Eddie asked.

“At least once a day,” Leckie said. 

Eddie shook his head. “Leckie, I can’t stop you from doing something that is monumentally idiotic and possibly fatal, but I can ask you to not do what you’re planning.”

“I’m not planning on doing anything,” Leckie clarified. “I just wondered if there were more of them outside of Haldane’s family and in Ville.”

Eddie pinched his brow, adopting the look of the long suffering, and sighed. “I’m going to pretend, for the sake of my sanity, that you’re honestly curious about a Sidhe settlement. Lucky for you, Aindrea’s tasked Hoosier with taking this year’s census to the Sidhe of Midwood. You can tag along.”

“Thanks, Eddie,” Leckie said.

Eddie shrugged. “It’ll be a bit of a journey. Takes at least three days to get there in fair weather. The census can take up to a month and then there shall be the return journey. I suggest you go down to the market and purchase some warmer clothes.”

“No one mentioned camping.”

“You should count yourself lucky, to have the luxury of sleeping under the stars with hardly a care in the world,” Eddie admonished as he rolled up the map. 

“It’s not like I’ll know any of the constellations,” he said. It was a hard thing to get used to. Looking up at the night sky and not seeing the North Star. Just yet another unsettling thing about being here.

“You don’t need to know everything about the world to find it beautiful,” Eddie said, the weight of his years behind his words. It was easy to forget, with his young face and engaging banter, that Eddie was pretty damn old. He was an artifact in his own right. 

“So when does this romantic trip for two under the stars begin,” Leckie asked.

Eddie looked out at the sky, cocking his head to the side as if the very sun rays were talking to him. Leckie wouldn’t be surprised if they _were_. 

“There’ll be rain tonight. I can already smell it coming in off the sea. The ground will be flooded, far too saturated to travel. Aindrea should send you out by next week. I suggest you prepare for sleeping on the ground. We’ll contact Roe to send some salves ahead of time.”

“The Reaper?”

“He won’t kill you,” Eddie said.

“He might,” Leckie muttered. He looked down at the shoes on his feet, mostly made of cloth, and thought of the black oxfords he’d worn into this world. “You said it’s going to rain?”

Eddie nodded. “I encourage you to travel down to the market as soon as possible. And perhaps stop by the shoemaker before going anywhere else.”

 

************

Bob Leckie wasn’t used to being outdoors for long periods of time. He’d never joined the Boy Scouts; never went to Summer Camp; and his parents were far from the sleeping outdoors type. Their family vacations always occurred at hotel beach resorts, not camp grounds, and Leckie would never deny the fact that he was a city boy, born-and-raised. Three days into their little trip, Leckie could already feel the sunburn on his skin and the stiffness of his sweat-soaked clothing. He’d never wanted a bath more in his life. 

Hoosier wasn’t suffering from any similar affliction. In fact, the wizard seemed to be thriving out here, surrounded by nothing but nature and open air. There was even a distinct glow rising up from his skin, something that either never happened within the walls of Merrymec or Leckie just never bothered to notice before now. 

“You’re glowing,” he said, as Hoosier finally agreed to stop for the night.

“Your eyes are finally adjusting,” Hoosier replied. “I always have some residual magic around me. I’m not like Eddie and Andy, my eyes don’t shine, but you can still see the magic when your eyes get used to it all.”

“Snafu doesn’t glow,” Leckie pointed out.

Hoosier nodded. “He doesn’t, but he’ll make your skin crawl. Doesn’t mean to, but it’s a natural reaction to being around something who can see into the Beyond.”

“Ahh,” Leckie said as he settled down under a tree. 

Hoosier put the tent up, Leckie having already miraculously failed at it, and made the site ready for the night. Hoosier’s movements were seamless; he didn’t seem bothered by the stifling heat of the evening, or the cold that would surely come with the night. A breeze was already picking up, ruffling the lose curls of Hoosier’s hair. It wasn’t hard to believe that he was something otherworldly, out here in the coming night.

“You want to stop pining over there and help tie this thing to the tree,” Hoosier asked, holding out one of those ropes. 

Leckie smirked and titled his head back. “Oh, I think you’ve got it all well in hand.”

“You’re a useless, spoiled bastard, Leckie,” he said.

“I do what I can,” Leckie answered. 

Hoosier huffed and stood, up, pulling the rope of the tent tight as he tied it down. Leckie would be a liar if he said he didn’t enjoy the view. Hoosier had been shirtless for most of the day. Watching his taut muscles and lithe body at work, while enjoyable, was more than a tad distracting. 

Hoosier settled down beside him and dusted the grass and tree bark off his palms. He had dirt stains on the cuff of his pants, grass stains on his knees, and Leckie had never seen him more comfortable in his skin. They had both grown quiet on this journey, occasional snide remarks as always, but while Leckie had to concentrate on not noticing the cramps in his legs, Hoosier just watched the sky. 

Leckie pulled off his boots and rested his feet in the still warm grass. It felt good to get some air on them, even if the blisters were killing him. Hoosier grabbed his foot and carefully drained the blisters.

“What the hell are you even doing out here, Leckie.” 

“I wanted to get some fresh air,” Leckie said, trying hard to keep his face blank and failing as Hoosier worked over his feet.

“Sarcasm doesn’t always save you,” Hoosier said. He pulled out a pack of bandages and started to wrap Leckie’s feet. “You’re clearly not used to traveling like this. So again, what the hell are you doing out here?”

Leckie knew that Hoosier wouldn’t give up until he got an answer that satisfied him. Leckie just didn’t know how much he should reveal. Hoosier, like Eddie, could easily see past all bullshit, and Leckie was overflowing with it right now. There wasn’t a good way to explain that he planned on bargaining with some tree elves to get home early; throwing part of his life and a bit of his soul up as payment. The whole plan wasn’t exactly a testimony to Leckie’s patience or intelligence. He knew it smelled of desperation and stupidity, but he had to at least _try_. 

“It’s not a crime to be curious,” he finally answered.

“I have a feeling it might just be with you,” Hoosier said. 

He decided to leave that statement alone and turned to the sky, watching the setting sun. He had to give Eddie some credit, all his wisdom spouting wasn’t bullshit. The night sky was a peaceful and beautiful thing to watch, even if he didn’t understand the stars.

 

************

Hoosier ordered Leckie to put on the magical shades as they approached the Sidhe settlement. He understood why as soon as they approached the gateway of intertwining vines. Even through the filter, the magic was so potent it was damn near blinding. 

“How are your retinas not melting?” 

“I grew up near a Sidhe settlement,” Hoosier simply explained. He held out his hand and a golden light appeared in the shape of a hawk. It took flight, easily maneuvering over the gates.

“That’s a neat trick,” Leckie observed.

“I know a thing or two,” Hoosier said. 

The hawk figure returned, perching on top of the vines. There was a whisper on the wind, suddenly all the sound seemed to go out of the world, and a whooshing pulse passed through the ground. Leckie reached a hand out, grasping on to Hoosier’s shoulder so as not to fall from the force. 

“Steady,” Hoosier said as the gates opened. 

Leckie didn’t quite know what he was expecting. All his knowledge about elves came from a collective version of Santa Claus myths and Tolkien. Haldane looked pretty damn normal, no pointy ears or shoes to be seen, but he sensed these elves were just a little bit different.

“Look, Sam, Wood Elves,” Leckie muttered.

“ _Sidhe_ ,” Hoosier corrected, “don’t piss off our hosts before even entering.”

“Or what,” Leckie asked.

“Or be banished,” a gruff voice replied. A small-statured man stood before him, defiantly staring at Leckie.

“Welcome to Midwood, Wanderer” the man said.

“How does _everyone_ know that?”

“The visors give you away,” Hoosier flatly stated. He held a hand up in greeting. “Leyden, always glad to see you haven’t managed to kill yourself.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Leyden said. He held out his hand to Hoosier and pulled him into a quick embrace. “Glad to see you haven’t blown yourself up yet.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Hoosier mimicked. 

Leyden gestured his head to Leckie. “I see Eddie wasn’t lying when he said you were bringing a guest.”

“Leckie wanted to tag along,” Hoosier said. He motioned for Leckie to come forward. “Bob Leckie of New York, meet Bill Leyden of Midwood.”

“Bill?” Leckie asked, taking Leyden’s offered hand. 

“Short for Ailill,” Bill said.

“Right,” Leckie agreed, “because William is too obscure”

“You got a cousin named Webster?” Leyden asked. He shook his head. “Never mind, of course you do. Family resemblance is clear. Alley will be upset you’ve brought a new _friend_ , Hoosier.”

“It’s not like that,” Hoosier said.

Leyden looked between the two of them and just nodded with a far too knowing smirk. 

“Uh-huh,” he said, “I’ll be certain to change your room accommodations around. Might as well be on our way. It’ll take Leckie a day to get there as is with that limp.”

“Let me guess,” Leckie said, whispering to Hoosier, “they’re the mischievous kind of elves.”

“Sidhe,” Leyden corrected from up ahead, “and yes. It’s why Haldane doesn’t trust us to fill out our own census forms.”

“That’s really more Jay’s decree,” Hoosier said, pulling Leckie along. “He’s not a fan of all the proposals he receives.”

“But he’s _such_ an adorable little cub,” Leyden said. “We haven’t had a Were in our clan for at least twenty generations.”

“Can’t say I blame Jay,” Leckie said.

“Oh, they have their perks,” Hoosier said.

“And Hoosier would know,” Leyden agreed. 

Leckie would’ve clutched his pearls if he had any. He’d never seen such brazen innuendo on this side of the divide. Not even in The Grounded Brigantine. It made him wonder just what the hell Andy and Eddie were like when they weren’t playing Mr. & Mr. Upstanding Citizens of Merrymec. 

The walk to the settlement was spent mostly in silence on Leckie’s part. It took all of his energy to just get his legs to work. He wasn’t exactly a sloth in his normal life, but there was difference between walking New York City blocks and unpaved ground. The air was thinner here besides, farther from the sea level and closer to the tree line. His balance was already slightly thrown off, and it didn’t help that they were clearly walking at an incline. 

No wonder Webster never bothered to make the bargain. Half the people probably died just trying to get _to_ the Sidhe. 

The sun was setting by the time they arrived in the settlement. Leckie was almost disappointed at seeing nothing but normal stone and thatched-roof houses. 

“What, no house in the tree tops?” he asked.

“Who the hell are you again?” another elf asked, standing beside Leyden. He was shorter, with dark curly hair and a snarl on his lips.

Leckie never really thought about how he expected elves to look like and act, but this one certainly made Leyden downright pleasant. 

“Bob Leckie, meet JP,” Hoosier said. “JP’s not one of the wood Sidhe, he’s an urban dweller.”

“So, under a bridge like a troll.”

“I’ve asked him about billy goats but he apparently hates that joke,” a familiar voice interrupted them.

“Sledge,” Leckie said, honestly shocked. “What are you doing here?”

Sledge looked different out here as well, more at peace, and healthier with a little sun warming his skin. His smile was small, but warm. 

“Shifty’s here to officiate a wedding. I decided to tag along, I need to go visit the Watcher of the Woods anyway.”

“The who of the what?”

“Winters,” Hoosier said, as if they clearly explained everything. 

Leckie was stopped from his questioning by JP circling around him. He took big whiff of Bob’s hair. 

“Human,” he said.

“You got a problem with that?” Leckie asked.

“Just wondering when Midwood became a haven for your kind,” JP said. He turned to Leyden. “This one okay to pass?”

“He’s not a threat,” Leyden said, almost laughing. “He can barely stand, JP.”

“I know that,” JP said, “but that doesn’t mean he’s harmless.”

“Oh, I didn’t say that,” Leyden agreed, “but Leckie seems smart enough, for a human.”

“Hey—” Leckie protested. Sledge slapped a hand over his mouth before he could say anything else. 

“I’m sure Mr. Leckie could do with a wash and a rest,” Sledge said. “I’ll take him to the guest house. You go on ahead, Hoosier.”

“You sure?” Hoosier asked. 

“Go,” Sledge said, waving his free hand. “I think you’ve had enough of Leckie to last a lifetime.”

“Agreed,” Hoosier said, clearly delighting in the fact Leckie couldn’t reply.

If Sledge wasn’t such a decent man, Leckie would’ve bit through half his hand by now. As it was, he was willing to swallow his pride just this once, and concede to another. Sledge clearly knew more about what was going on here and Leckie didn’t fancy getting executed before bedtime.

“So, Shifty’s a wedding officiant,” Leckie stated after Sledge brought them inside.

“He’s a Goodfellow,” Sledge said.

Leckie choked on his own spit. “Like the Mob?”

“No,” Sledge said, “like a Robin Goodfellow. A Puck. They always oversee the weddings of the Sidhe and the Wizards.”

“If I wake-up suddenly in love with you for no discernible reason I’m going to be royally pissed off,” Leckie said, prying off his boots.

Sledge just laughed, the sound unburdened by its usual reserve

“This place is good for you,” Leckie observed.

Sledge sat down beside him with a small healing kit. “It’s a good place for anyone seeking a renewal of the spirit. It’s not a place to live, mind you; it’s easy to forget time, family members, everything other than joy and relaxation here. It’s not that the Sidhe are trying to trap anyone, it’s just their lifespans are so long that they don’t consider the passing of days as important as us.”

“Hoosier’s brought me to the Island of the Louts Eaters?” Leckie asked.

“Not quite,” Sledge said, “no one’s drugged here unless they want or need to be. It’s just easy to get lulled in by the smell, stories, songs, and the magic.”

“If I wake-up as a pig or with donkey’s ears I am going to kill someone,” Leckie promised. He tried not to wince as Sledge unwrapped his feet and applied the noxious smelling, stinging antiseptic. 

“That will only happen if you go through with your honestly moronic plan,” Sledge said. There was no judgment in his tone, just fact. 

“I have to try,” Leckie said.

“No,” Sledge said, looking up to meet his eyes, “you don’t. It’s one of those cases where the risk is greater than the reward, Leckie. The Sidhe might be able to get you back to our world, but they can’t guarantee when or where you’ll land.”

“I don’t belong here, Eugene,” Leckie said.

“But you _could_ ,” Sledge argued, “if you really bothered to try.” He dried Leckie’s feet with a clean towel and stood up. “Get some rest,” he ordered, “you might see things differently in the morning.”

“I doubt it,” Leckie said. 

Sledge shrugged. “We’re not the only humans here. There’s a large festival that brings visitors from all over the Other Side. You might have a few guests who’ll change your mind.”

“Should I expect the first at midnight?” Leckie asked.

“Don’t be an asshole, Leckie,” Sledge said before leaving the room. He closed the door behind him, the click not at all ominous. 

***********

The smell of vanilla and spice tickled Leckie’s nose and finally pulled him out of bed. It was still night, bonfires flaring up in the distance. The air was overly fragrant and there was a pulsing sound of drums coming from the center of the settlement. 

Leckie slid out of bed, surprised at the lack of pain in his feet. He smiled as his looked down at his blister-free toes. His clothes had been changed, and the water still clinging to his curly hair suggested a bed bath. He must’ve been more tired than he realized to sleep through all that, but hell, Sledge probably _did_ drug him with that antiseptic. He was just quietly devious enough. 

“Look who’s finally awake,” Hoosier said from a chair in the corner.

Leckie flinched and stumbled back on to the bed. “Christ,” he cursed, “did anyone tell you it’s shitty manners to spy on people.”

Hoosier shrugged and held out a bottle. “Drink, Leckie? Midwood specialty.”

Leckie cautiously approached him. There was something different to Hoosier’s eyes, the glow of his magic slowly turning to a different shade. “What’s in it?” he asked.

“Take a sip and find out,” Hoosier said. 

“Why are you always trying to get me drunk?” Leckie asked.

“You’re more manageable that way,” Hoosier said. He leaned back in his chair, watching as Leckie took a swig. “Good, isn’t it?”

“It’s got a bite,” Leckie said, coughing at the fire burning down his throat. 

There was a distinct lack of sound in the house. It was clear everyone else was out enjoying the festival. “Why aren’t we out there?”

“It would be better for you in here,” Hoosier said.

“Fuck that,” Leckie said, “I didn’t walk this far to drink in the dark with you. I can do that back at Haldane’s.”

Hoosier sighed. “Leckie, you really need to read your Handbook,” he said.

Leckie glared at him.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” he asked, resignation already coloring his tone.

“Hell no,” Leckie said. 

Hoosier took one last drink before setting the bottle on a side table. “Never say I didn’t try to protect your virtue,” he muttered.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Leckie asked.

Hoosier grabbed Leckie’s arm and pulled him out of the house. 

“My shoes,” Leckie said.

Hoosier laughed. “Trust me, you won’t need them.”

Leckie could feel his body start to react to everything, from the sensual smells to the drum beats. Everything just felt like _more_ out here. It made his skin crawl in a not unpleasant way. A main stage featured performers, singers, musicians, and dancers, all providing entertainment for the night. He spotted Shifty at the corner of the stage, throwing sachets into the fire pits. 

Sledge was perched on a tree branch, pale legs dangling over the edge, his ever present sketch pad in his lap. A young lady sat next to him, a flute in her tanned hands, her long dark curls bouncing with her movements as she played a tune. 

“Lena,” Hoosier replied to Leckie’s unasked question.

“Sidhe?” Leckie asked.

“Dryad,” he said.

“I should’ve known,” Leckie said. 

He followed Hoosier to where Leyden sat, surrounded by a group of friends.

“The Wanderer lives,” Leyden declared. He held up his cup in a toast. 

“I didn’t know I was supposed to be dying,” Leckie said. He took a free spot next to dark-haired man with light scarring on his face.

“Hoosier’s not exactly gentle,” the man said.

“Alley,” Hoosier warned. 

“No shame in passion,” Alley said, “and your marks tend to last, my friend.”

Leyden leaned into Leckie’s shoulder, more than a little drunk, and loudly whispered into his ear. “Hoosier’s still learning how to control his powers in bed.”

“Who said anything about a bed,” Alley said. A dangerous smirk was on his lips.

“Fuck you all,” Hoosier said.

“From the sound of it you already have,” Leckie said. 

Leckie wasn’t expecting the uproarious laugh that passed through the group, but he knew that the drunken mind rarely made sense. 

“We should keep this one, Leyden,” another one of the friends said. His face was youthful, grey eyes almost hidden under his long curls.

“I don’t think Hoosier would agree, Penk,” Leyden said. 

“Does everyone get this kind of welcome?” he asked Hoosier.

“Only those who are unclaimed,” Alley said. He handed a cup to Leckie. “Drink, my friend, for it is a wonderful night to be under the stars.”

Leckie took the cup, not wanting to offend a person with as many battle scars as Alley. 

“If I die from alcohol poisoning I will come back and haunt you all,” Leckie muttered into the cup.

“We will watch over you,” Penk promised.

“Why doesn’t that comfort me?” Leckie asked. 

The night worn on, dance after dance, song after song, drink after drink. People started to drift off into more secluded corners. Sledge was no longer on the tree branch, but Lena still sat there, playing her flute, her head resting on a handsome man’s shoulder. 

“Basilone,” Hoosier said, catching Leckie’s gaze, “he’s from your world.”

“And he stayed here?” Leckie asked.

“He planned to bargain his way home, but he found something worth staying for,” Hoosier said. 

They were alone now, Leyden and his group long paired off with passing friends and lovers. Leckie couldn’t deny the thrum of energy running under his skin. He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t wrong to want what he did now, that he deserved this; after all he’d been through. He slid next to Hoosier and rested a hand on his neck, quickly urging him down. 

There was a bitterness and bite in Hoosier’s mouth, either the mead or his natural taste. Leckie couldn’t care less, not with the spicy scent on the air and the pulsing rhythms of the drums. It was like being in the center of a rave, but made even more potent by the smell of the ground and the thick presence of the forest all around them. 

Hoosier’s fingers digging into his arm finally pulled Leckie back.

“Wanderer, didn’t know you had it in you,” he said.

“I’ll blame the alcohol in the morning,” Leckie admitted. 

Hoosier laughed and tapped a finger to Leckie’s forehead. Suddenly his soft buzz disappeared and his mind became instantly clear, though the energy was still under his skin.

“Aren’t you supposed to warn me before you do that shit?” Leckie asked.

Hoosier shrugged. “I’ve always practiced wordless magic. It was how my master taught me.”

Leckie nodded. “Okay then.” He pulled Hoosier in for another, deeper kiss.

Hoosier’s fingers tangled in his hair and pulled him closer with a force just this side of painful. Leckie gave himself over to it all, but he didn’t go completely pliant. It wasn’t in him to submit; the same could be said for Hoosier.

He fought as Hoosier tried to pull them up.

“Not here,” Hoosier hissed. 

Leckie wasn’t the pouting kind but he was damn close. He stood on wobbly knees, leaning into Hoosier’s side as he led them back to the guest house.

“This is a fertility festival, isn’t it?” Leckie asked as they passed couples and groups engaged in some impressive compromising positions.

“I told you to read your Handbook,” Hoosier said. 

Hoosier locked the door to their rooms with a quick spell. He let Leckie sit on the bed while he walked over to his pack.

“You certain about this, Leckie?” he asked.

“Hell no,” Leckie said.

Hoosier laughed at that and approached Leckie slowly, lowering himself down onto his lap.

“You want this though?” he asked, his voice a harsh whisper.

“Hell yes,” Leckie muttered into Hoosier’s neck. He could taste the sweat there. Hoosier smelled liked the woods, and the spices, and something else, something not at all human. 

It wasn’t Leckie’s first time sleeping with a man and he doubted it would be his last, but it was difficult not to be intimidated by what he saw in Hoosier’s eyes. There was pure, raw power there, the sense of his magic clearly augmented by the area and the festival. It was easy to forget that the man he traded barbs and witticisms with daily could honestly turn him into newt. 

“You’re almost terrifying like this,” Leckie told him.

“Whatever gets you off,” Hoosier said, a bite to Leckie’s throat cutting off any retort. “I’ll try not to break you,” he promised. 

Leckie was far too gone to last for any significant amount of time. It was clumsy and sloppy, a clash of teeth and limbs, blunt nails grasping at sweaty skin, stubble leaving burns on chests, stomachs, thighs. It was rough, messy, and over far too damn soon. 

Leckie tried to make a comment about Hoosier’s lack of stamina, but he was left to a wordless grunt.

“Go to sleep, Leckie,” Hoosier said after he moved them to the room’s other bed. 

Hoosier woke him up in the morning with a warm meal and a cup of semi-coffee. 

“If I didn’t hate you so much, I’d confess my love,” Leckie said.

Hoosier tugged a handful of Leckie’s hair, smiling when Leckie couldn’t stop the submissive tilt of his neck.

“Good boy,” Hoosier said with a pat to his head. 

“I’m starting to learn more than I wanted to know about your tastes,” Leckie said.

“You might want to think about that the next time you stick your tongue down a man’s throat during a fertility festival,” Hoosier said.

Leckie felt his lips quirk into a smile. “I’m not going to say I’m sorry.”

“That makes two of us,” Hoosier said, snatching a piece of Leckie’s toast before settling back against the headboard.

************

Leckie wasn’t quite sure which of the Sidhe to approach for the bargain. Leyden seemed too far down the food chain, he doubted Lena brokered such deals, and JP and Alley seemed more the warrior type than ripping holes in space and time. 

Hoosier and Sledge both knew what he was up to, each new day giving a mountain of arguments for why it was all a really bad idea, but Leckie still needed to try. He didn’t hate it here, not as much as he used to, but he still _needed_ to go home. Shifty was actually the one who suggested he check for any sources in the Sidhe’s library.

He should’ve known better than to trust a Puck. 

“Oh fuck,” Leckie muttered, walking into Midwood’s library. 

Webster was behind one of the desks, clearly lying in wait for Leckie.

“Sledge told me you were thinking about making a bargain with the Sidhe,” Webster said.

“You’re the one who wrote about it,” Leckie argued.

“Notice how I didn’t take the offer,” Webster said. 

Leckie shrugged. “Maybe I just have bigger balls than you.”

Webster rolled his eyes heavenward and cursed. “You realize that if you take this jump, best case scenario, you’ll end up in a different country. Worst case is that you end up in a different time. Apocalypse case, you end up in a different Other World.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Leckie said.

“Okay, let me try to appeal to your supposed sense of logic. In your desire to realm jump in order to get home six months before your scheduled time, you’re willing to take the risk that you might not get home _at all_. Tell me, Bob, what’s worse? Here, or Europe circa the Height of the Bubonic Plague.”

Leckie’s jaw clenched. “I need to get home, Webster. This place might be okay for you and Sledge, but I need to get home.”

Webster scoffed. “Are you honestly that much of an arrogant fuck that you think you’re the only one of the Wanderers who needed to get home? Leckie, I had a wife, a job, and I was doing research for a book advancement. I went out into the ocean to study sharks and I wound-up here. Do you know why I never went back?”

“Because here you have less competition for literary awards?”

Webster just sighed. “Leckie, any family you have on the other side? They’re going to think you’ve disappeared. You’re going to be in a database somewhere. Another lost face among the millions. Your stuff is going to be sold, in storage, or put out on the streets. Depending on how your family feels about it, you might already be declared dead. For all intents and purposes, those people think you’re already gone. Hell, for all we know, we _are_ dead and this is some fucked up version of purgatory.”

“You’re really good at this hope thing, Webster, you should go into the motivational speaking business,” Leckie said.

Webster shook his head. “You’re an arrogant asshole, there’s nothing wrong with that of course.”

“Of course not,” Leckie said.

“But you’re an idiot if you think the other side has frozen in time because you’re gone.”

Leckie couldn’t dispute any of what Webster said. He’d though about it himself, what it would mean to be missing for six months, with no notice. There would be a mountain of complications, forms, and bullshit he’d have to deal with once he got back, but at least he’d be home.

“So, Tom Wolfe, are you telling me I can’t go home again,” he retorted, for lack of anything else.

“I’m telling you that you really want to think about this. You know how to be rational, Leckie, and this? It’s all irrational.”

Leckie didn’t need a man who actually liked swimming with sharks to lecture him about rationality. “If we’re going to go with the hypothetical that all my stuff has been sold off and I’m dead to everyone, how the hell is it going to be better if I wait another six months to go home?”

“Because at the very least you will return to the exact spot you left. At least you have your wallet, proof of your identity, and can go back to a society where you exist in some way, shape or form. If you wind up in the middle of the Boxer Rebellion do you really think you’re going to live long?”

Leckie sucked his teeth. He never liked it when someone else got the last word.

“I can’t tell you what to do, Bob. I doubt anyone can. I just don’t want to see you take a chance on something that is this stupid.”

Leckie rolled his eyes. “You really just want me to stay so you can keep up your book club.”

“Sledge just doesn’t appreciate Hemmingway,” Webster said. He walked over to the window and pointed down to where Hoosier was laughing with Penk and Alley. “Isn’t there anything you’re willing to stay for?”

“We’re not that close and I’m not that much of a girl,” Leckie said.

“Clearly you _are_ that much of a heartless bastard. _Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards_ ,” Webster quoted.

“ _For they are subtle and quick to anger_ ,” Leckie finished. “I know.”

“Do you?” Webster asked. “Because from over here you are fucking up royally.”

“Since when did you become my life coach?” Leckie asked.

“Since Sledge realized he couldn’t handle you alone,” Webster admitted. 

“That almost makes me proud,” Leckie said.

“I must admit that hardly surprises me,” Webster said. He awkwardly patted Leckie on the shoulder. “Just give an honest thought to the consequences. What would you, as a journalist and an intelligent man, think if you were viewing it from the outside?”

Leckie shifted on his feet before finally admitting the truth. “I would find the subject in serious need of a lobotomy.”

Webster let his raised brow provide his answer. 

“Fine,” Leckie muttered before leaving the library. He wasn’t admitting defeat, not yet. He was just going to give himself a longer timeline for his research. There could still be a way to make it all work out.

He was distracted by a patch of ivy at the base of one of the trees. It was a truly vivid green, and glowed in the sunlight. The smell was potent and enticing. He reached a finger out and traced one of the leaves. 

He straightened up as he felt suddenly dizzy. His vision spotted and he tried to fight off the vertigo, but it was no use. He crumped to his knees and passed out.

************

 

Leckie woke up in his bed at Merrymec, his throat burning and head throbbing. He vaguely recalled the last few days. Hoosier looking down at him, eyes wide in shock. Lena’s dark eyes flashing as she pressed a cold cloth to his face. Leaning against Shifty in the guest house, an argument between Hoosier and Sledge. He still didn’t know quite how the hell they got here, but he remembered the feel of air on his face, almost like flying. 

“I told you to read your Handbook,” Sledge said. He pressed a wet rag to Leckie’s forehead. “You would know about the fever and to stay away from the Emerald Ivy Patches until you were here at least seven months.”

“Your momma never taught you not to kick a man when he was down?” he croaked out.

Sledge shook his head. “One of these days you’ll say something without biting sarcasm and I might just die of shock.”

“At least it will give Snafu something to do.”

“He enjoys terrorizing the new arrivals to the city. He’s a hazing ritual in his own right.”

Leckie tried to laugh at that but it turned into a hacking cough.

“That’s it, I’m getting Roe,” Sledge said.

“The one who’s half-Reaper? I don’t think so.”

Sledge actually glared at him. Apparently there was an end to a Southern Gentleman’s patience “He’s the very best at what he does, and at his young age, that’s very impressive.”

“ _Reaper_ ,” Leckie repeated.

“Then he’s not going to take your life unless he’s really meant to. Don’t you agree that’s better odds than some country doctor walking around with an obscure bovine virus over his hands?”

“You raise a valid point. Call him,” Leckie said.

Sledge nodded and scribbled a note down. He handed it to Jackie, who disappeared in a flash of light.

“How’d we get here?” he asked. 

“Horses,” Sledge said, “Shifty’s one of the fastest riders here. Leyden was kind enough to lend me his horse. Lena said it was best if we got you back to the city, away from all the raw magic.”

“The Sidhe don’t have one of Haldane’s fancy coaches?”

“They’re not good on inclines,” Sledge said. He patted Leckie’s head again with the wash cloth. “Hoosier had to stay behind. Haldane really does need that census completed.” 

“Hoosier always had a job to do, I was just along for the ride,” Leckie explained. 

Sledge nodded, the candlelight bouncing off his red hair. The blinds were drawn and the room very dark. The candles flared again as Jackie reappeared and handed Sledge a note, before going back to wherever Flames of Knowledge spent their free time.

“Roe will be here by nightfall,” Sledge said. He folded up the letter. “That really means he’ll be here by noon, but he likes to give overestimates of his time, just in case.”

“Fast little fucker, is he?”

“He’s one of the best, if not _the_ best Healer in this region, Leckie, show him a little respect,” Sledge scolded.

“No promises,” Leckie said.

“There never are, not from you,” Sledge said quietly. He picked up the book in his lap. “Would you like me to read to you?”

“Please,” Leckie said, already drifting back to sleep.

“ _In a distant and secondhand set of dimensions, in an astral plane that was never meant to fly_ ,” Sledge’s smooth voice quoted from _The Color of Magic_ and lulled Leckie to sleep. 

************

 

Gene Roe, the half-Reaper, seemed harmless from far away, but up close like this, leaning over Leckie’s body, he was terrifying. His skin damn near shined, it was so pale, with all sort of energy and magic working under the surface. His eyes turned completely dark as he went to work, or shed his glamour, Leckie wasn’t sure which. So many people here weren’t what they seemed. 

Roe’s voice sounded rough, as if he didn’t often speak. His accent was a liquid, smooth sound once he talked for a few minutes, but it was clear Roe spent most of days in vocal silence. He must’ve communicated somehow. Over here Leckie never knew just what that _how_ meant.

He could feel the warmth of Roe’s energy as he hovered his hands over his body. Roe didn’t actually touch him, he didn’t need to, he wasn’t checking Bob for anything visible on the outside.

Roe pulled back and sorted through his bag. He pulled out a vial full of golden-brown liquid.

“What’s that?” Leckie asked.

“A mixture of allspice, bilberry, henna, and thistle. It will help you heal,” Roe said.

“And if it doesn’t at least I’ll smell nice,” he said.

Roe nodded. “Our ivy is a bit stronger than the type you’re used to. For us it’s a living, breathing, magical thing. Very powerful. You’re just reacting to its presence.”

“It blinded me,” Leckie said.

“You breathed in its scent and had your mind opened to what it looks like when you see the manifestation of magic on the light spectrum,” Sledge said.

“You could have told me that.”

“It’s in your Handbook,” Sledge said. 

Roe shook his head. “Never did agree with everything in that book. Some stuff you just need to stumble across on your own.”

“Thank you,” Leckie said. 

“You’ve spent most of your time here in the city,” Roe stated.

“Yes,” Leckie confirmed.

“Probably why you had such a bad reaction. You’re not adjusting as quickly as you should. Midwood’s ivy patches are potent enough on their own, but if you’ve been in the city, surrounded by stone, metal, and industry, any extended time in nature was bound to make you sick.”

“Is _that_ in the Handbook?” Leckie asked. 

“No,” Sledge admitted. 

“It wouldn’t be. Webster never did come see me, but that’s why I help with the Watch Keeper’s pamphlets. Better knowledge in there anyway, and you don’t need a translator to understand it.”

“See,” Leckie said, “I’m not the only one.”

“You don’t read the pamphlets either,” Sledge said.

“Let’s just be thankful you ain’t dead yet,” Roe said.

Leckie could feel his face go lax. “Reapers aren’t supposed to make jokes like that,” he said.

“Reapers do what they want,” Roe said. He patted Leckie on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine as long as you stay in bed and take your medicine. You’ll be as healthy as you were before the week is out, as long as you follow my directions. You act stupid and get out of this bed before then, I’ll wash my hands of you. Snafu can take care of you.”

“What happened to _first do no harm_?” Leckie asked.

“We don’t have that vow over here,” Roe said. He placed a hand on Leckie’s head. It was burning warm, not cold like Leckie expected. “Go to sleep,” he ordered. 

Leckie did. 

When he finally woke up, the shades were up and windows open, letting in the night air. He could here Bessie splashing in the lake.

He sat up, surprised to find Hoosier sitting by the balcony.

“You here to mourn me?” he asked.

“Leckie, I have seen much sorrier states than you. You’re not dying, you’re just a pussy.”

“You are quite the wordsmith.”

Hoosier smiled. “Most people aren’t concerned with me using my mouth for words.”

Leckie really wanted to make a witty retort, but he just couldn’t be bothered. 

“Wow, you must really be sick,” Hoosier said. 

He settled down on Leckie’s bed and pressed a hand to Leckie’s forehead.

It wasn’t like when Sledge wiped his forehead with a wet rag, or when Roe hovered his hands over Leckie’s body. He could feel something cold and smooth slip from Hoosier’s palm and manifest itself through Leckie’s body. 

“What did you just do to me?”

“Nothing but a cooling spell. It will make your more comfortable and lucid.”

“You clear that with Roe?”

“He told me to use it only if I felt it was necessary.”

“And you’re just getting to it now?”

“You lose your sarcasm and I get worried,” Hoosier said. 

Hoosier pulled open the bag Roe had left with extra medicines and herbs.

“Ah-ha,” he said.

“What?” Leckie asked.

Hoosier pulled out a sachet filled with something that smelled like _hell_.

Leckie glared at it. “What are you going to do with that?”

“Put it under your pillow.”

“Oh, hell no.”

Hoosier’s lips twitched. “Leckie, it’s goat’s rue and garlic, it’s not going to kill you.”

“Are you sure about that? Because right now, the ivy is doing a damn good job.”

“That’s why the Handbook tells all newcomers to stay away from it for at least a half-year.”

“Yeah, I know that now. I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll read the damn book. You all win, okay?”

Hoosier laughed, low in his throat, a sound Leckie was learning to enjoy. He pressed a kiss to Leckie’s lips as he slipped the sachet under his pillow. Hoosier’s upper body, leaning over him, easily kept Leckie in place. 

“I hate you,” Leckie said.

Hoosier placed a hand in Leckie’s hair. “I know,” he said, before sending Leckie into another healing sleep.


	4. Four

**Depression**

Two weeks later, Leckie’s body was finally starting to heal. There was still an ache in his bones, a parting gift from the fever, but he was able to walk around the Manor. He was also back on solid foods. He never thought he’d miss that godforsaken bread for breakfast, but it was so much better than more broth. 

He sat out on his balcony with Hoosier watching the sunrise. Hoosier had been a surprise these past few weeks, a strong if sarcastic support. 

“I miss bagels and schemer,” Leckie said as he ripped apart the bread. “I never thought I was that much of a stereotype, but god, I just want a Jewish deli. Right now. Can you conjure that up?”

Hoosier shook his head. “Sorry, Leckie, all out of magical delis.”

“What good is a wizard if he can’t give you comfort food on demand,” he said. 

“The best I can do is your favorite meal from The Grounded Brigantine,” Hoosier said.

“Okay,” Leckie said, “I guess you can stay a little longer.”

“You’re far too kind,” Hoosier said. His words lacked their normal bite. 

Everyone was treating him with the kid gloves again. He didn’t quite know how to react this time. He wasn’t frustrated or angry like before, just sort of numb. Apparently near-death experiences did that to him. Sledge and Hoosier had both tried to play off the seriousness of the illness, but that hadn’t succeeded. Leckie could see it, in the hard lines of Haldane’s face; the grim guilt-tinged smile on Eddie’s; and the way Roe and Snafu had hovered, lingering by his bedside far longer than needed. 

Or maybe it wasn’t the fever. Maybe they were waiting for him to finally lose it. Leckie certainly felt that way, like he was starting to crack, but he was too world-weary to honestly care. He’d missed his chance with the elves, there was no way in the nine levels of hell anyone was going to let him ride that far out into the country again. He just had to convince Webster to sign off on his transfer papers and that was starting to feel like an impossible task.

His lips quirked as he thought of Herculean efforts, impossible tasks, and Pyrrhic victories. His Classical Studies professor would be so proud to see him now. 

“It’s not like you to be so quiet,” Hoosier said.

“Actually, it is,” Leckie said. He put his bread to the side. “I’m known for being lost in my own mind, or my work. I can turn on the charm when needed, but really, I learned at a young age I needed to make a wealth of noise to be noticed.” He shook his head. “Sometimes it was better to just stay silent and hide.”

“So you’re going silent on us now?” Hoosier asked.

“No,” Leckie said, staring at the sun. “I’m going to fly the middle course.”

************

There was something going on with Haldane. Stacks of letters teetered on his desk top, all addressed to him. Not to the Watch Keepers, or the University, or the Manor, but to Prince Aindrea. It was causing some serious tension between Haldane and Eddie.

Leckie was keeping Eddie company to distract him. They lay with their bare feet dangling in the river. Eddie claimed they both needed some fresh air, and his offer of a lunch outside seemed more a command than a request. 

“How are you?” Eddie asked. 

It was a question, phrased many different ways, by a score of different people, that was slowly driving Leckie insane.

“I’m fine,” Leckie said.

“No, you’re not,” Eddie said. He pulled his feet out of the water, letting the sun dry them. He looked out over the river and reached a hand out.

Leckie couldn’t help the laugh that escaped as Bessie surfaced long enough to let her fins glisten in the sunlight.

“It’s okay to miss your home, and to find us lacking,” Eddie said. He closed his eyes and whispered a spell, thick, inked lines emerging all over his skin to form words, pictures and patterns. “I have to keep a glamour up here, around Andy’s family and citizens,” he said. 

He pulled up his sleeve to show a truly beautiful set of blue and green lines on his arms. “This, the marks of my own family and people, are considered offensive here. Most of our marital fights have been over how much of myself I have to cover up to be considered acceptable. I spent the first two decades of our marriage full of resentment. How dare this _child_ and his people force me to act like I am ashamed of myself.”

“Then why did you stay?” Leckie asked. He’d never head this part of the story. His interest piqued for the first time in weeks.

“We all have our duties,” Eddie murmured, fingers tracing a mark near his wrist. “I stay because of Andy. He’s never asked me to cover myself but he never truly understood it. He’s beloved here; no one dares to say a word against him. His consort though, now that’s another matter.”

“You really do know what it’s like to want and leave here,” Leckie said. It made sense, some of Eddie’s sad but knowing comments. It stuck him then, how hard it must be for him. Leckie had a chance to go home for good, but Eddie had given that up for what? Haldane didn’t seem like _that_ much of a prize. 

“How do you survive?” he asked.

“Bessie helps,” Eddie admitted, waving his hand as she emerged again. “If I didn’t stay here and monitor his work, Andy would drop dead from stress. I’ve developed a taste for living on dry land. It’s complicated.”

“But you’re still a Siren; your soul belongs at sea.”

Eddie pointed to the river. “And that way leads me home. It’s enough to know the choice exists. I have more to do here. I have more _important_ things to do here.”

“The letters,” Leckie said.

Eddie nodded. “Andy is not the true heir. That goes to his cousin, Larkin. We all fear that _when_ he receives the throne from Queen Catriona, war will come. Resistance movements are popping up near Ville. For the sake of their own necks, Andy and Romus have to start thinking in the long-term.”

“ _Romus_?”

“Andy’s heir. He’s a friend of Snafu’s.”

“Is he married to a werewolf?” Leckie asked.

“No,” Eddie said, confused, “my sister, Florentina.”

“Ah,” Leckie said, drawing the word out. It was nice to know that Haldane wasn’t as perfectly calm as he seemed. “He does a good job of hiding it.”

“Andy firmly believes that those he’s sworn to lead and protect should never see the toll of his personal problems. It helps him draw strength to put on that mask each morning,” Eddie said.

“You don’t approve of it?” Leckie asked.

Eddie didn’t answer; just let the glamour cover the markings on his skin.

“We all have masks,” Leckie agreed.

“And yours is cracking,” Eddie said. 

Bessie squealed in agreement.

************

After speaking with Eddie, Leckie was overcome with the urge to research the royal family. If there was one thing Bob Leckie knew how to do, it was research. He’d made an enjoyable livelihood as an investigative reporter. He even dreamed of being a historian one day. He pictured himself old and grey, wearing tweed jackets and living in an office full of books.

Some kids wanted to be a fireman. Leckie always wanted to be a mixture of Lenny Bruce and Walter Cronkite. His habit of always questioning meant he was pretty damn suited for that dream. Taking in information was never a problem for Leckie. He was good at observation, knew to look for the unspoken reaction in people, knew that sometimes what was _missing_ remained more valuable than what was _there_.

He stood in the middle of the University library, surrounded by stacks of ancient books, tablets, and scrolls full of a truly dizzying royal family tree. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing. He didn’t know how to find what he needed. He didn’t even know how to start. For once in his life, he didn’t know how to do a simple card catalog search in a library. He’d even tried the damn Handbook. This wasn’t like the Records room; nothing came out with a verbal command. Jay wasn’t even around to ask. No one was here, in this dark room with its ceiling high stacks. 

His hands started to shake.

Leckie backed away from the walls. He carefully set the books on the table and sat down, shaking his hands out. They wouldn’t stop. Or maybe it was him. His whole body seemed to be shaking. Or maybe it was the room itself. He felt the bile start to rise in his throat and closed his eyes. One deep breath, two. The blood was rushing in his ears, he could feel the sweat prickling on his skin, his heart was trying its damnedest to beat out of his chest. 

“Leckie?” Hoosier asked. His voice was muffled, but still so very Hoosier.

A cool hand grasped the back of his neck, palming the skin there, holding him steady. 

“Come on, Leckie,” Hoosier said, voice far too soft, “let’s get you home.”

A laughed bubbled up; it came out strangled and dark, half-a-sob. 

“Back to your room, then,” Hoosier corrected. 

Leckie didn’t remember the walk back; his face was buried deep in Hoosier’s neck, breathing in that familiar scent of smoke, sun, and magic. He didn’t know how Hoosier managed to wrangle the two of them, they were matched in height, but Leckie was broader. He supposed wizards had their ways. 

He could feel the floor move from stone, to wood, to carpet as they went further into the Manor.

“What the hell happened?” Snafu asked.

“Get Roe,” Hoosier ordered. 

Leckie didn’t say anything as Hoosier slowly lowered him into the bed. He just turned to his side and tried to get the shaking to stop.

There was the sound of the curtains whooshing closed, but Hoosier was next to him, pulling Leckie’s boots off. Normally the casual display of magic would warrant a comment or five, but he couldn’t make his mouth work. 

“It’ll be okay,” Hoosier said. His fingers massaged a circle into the bare skin of Leckie’s left ankle. 

Leckie nodded, head scratching against the cotton of the pillow, giving an answer he didn’t really believe. Hoosier didn’t either; it was there in his eyes, honest worry. And Leckie couldn’t even bring himself to joke it off. He was never comfortable with honest emotion, and he couldn’t handle it right now, not what he saw there. Not what he _felt_.

“Liar,” Leckie finally forced out through chattering teeth. 

Hoosier tangled one long-fingered hand in his hair and muttered, “Go to sleep, Leckie.”

He woke up sobbing. 

Leckie wasn’t the crying type. He just didn’t do it. Part of it was the culture. No boy wanted to look like a sissy as a kid, or a pussy as an adult. He’d shed a tear at his parents’ funerals, but he never flat out sobbed about anything.

Now he couldn’t stop. He hated feeling numb, but this was even worse.

“It’s not an uncommon reaction,” Roe assured him from his bedside.

Leckie blinked, swollen eyes struggling to adjust to the meager candlelight. Hoosier was gone and the room was silent, save for the sound of herbs sizzling in a small firepot. The air smelled like lemon and lavender. 

Roe handed him a glass of water, watching with careful eyes as Leckie drank it all.

“Can you make it stop?” he asked, grateful the shaking was gone. 

Roe took the glass from his hands and placed it back on the able. He turned back to Leckie, studying him with those eyes which saw beyond the corporeal. 

“I can make you unconscious,” his voice rambled out, “but other than that, no, Robert, I can’t make this stop. Whether or not you want to admit it, you are mourning the life and time you’ve lost.”

Leckie appreciated the honesty. Roe didn’t use the platitudes; there was nothing about him being patient, about waiting until the proper event. Roe understood that time was precious and Leckie didn’t exactly have it in spades. A Reaper probably got that better than anyone.

“I don’t do this shit, Doc,” he said.

Roe nodded. “I know, Robert. That makes this even more disturbing for you. Your body isn’t reacting the way it normally should and you have no idea how to handle it.”

“You got anything in that magic bag of yours to help?” Leckie asked. 

Roe shook his head.

Leckie lay back down and stared up at the ceiling, letting the smells of the herbs try and soothe him back to sleep.

 

************

To Leckie, it felt like he’d spent a year living in this dark state, where all the sounds were muffled and everything was wrapped in a hazy gauze. In reality, it was only a month since he’d lost it in the library. He hadn’t done much since then. The passing of time blurred, not in the pleasant way, like in Midwood, but in the forgetting-to-change-clothes-and-take-showers way. 

Leckie wasn’t used to feeling so very damn futile. 

“I’m depressed,” Leckie told Hoosier, admitting it out loud for the first time.

He was in Hoosier’s work room, watching as he concocted potions and measured out ingredients. There were scraps of paper everywhere, a haphazard mess that made complete sense to Hoosier. It was comforting here, with the light coming in through a stained glass window, and Hoosier’s steady voice muttering incantations. 

“I noticed your disposition was less sunny than usual,” Hoosier said.

“You don’t have any magic potions in there to make it all better?” Leckie asked.

Hoosier shoved himself into Leckie’s side, forcing him to open up his space. 

“Could I give you something full of false feelings, of course I could. But the effects would be temporary and you’d be left in a worst place than you are now. There’s a reason why it’s considered unethical to brew potions and perform magics which alter a person’s natural state. I don’t like doing it. Makes me feel too much like a Necromancer, like I’m controlling someone’s whole life. Couldn’t live with myself if I did that.”

Hoosier didn’t often talk about the official side of his powers and position. Or perhaps it was that Leckie never bothered to ask. It made him feel like a selfish bastard, that he could take so much of Hoosier’s time, his body, his patience, but he didn’t know that his very powers were governed by laws.

He didn’t know what to do with all that guilt, so he just defaulted to his norm. 

“You’re really not trying to take over the land? There goes my dreams of being the power behind the throne,” he quipped.

Hoosier laughed. “If you’re looking to slip into the heir’s bed, you’ll need to talk to Burgin. Not that Florentina will let anyone usurp her position. She _will_ set your ass on fire.”

“But she seems like such a pleasant young woman,” Leckie said. He’d only met her once and she’d been exceedingly kind. Hard to imagine her as a Siren, especially since Burgin also appeared to be a gentle soul.

Not that anything was ever what it seemed here. 

“As long as you don’t fuck with what’s hers, she’s harmless. Rest assured, Leckie, Burgin is most definitely _hers_.”

“It’s just so incestuous. She’s Eddie’s _sister_.”

“And Burgin is Haldane’s _adopted_ heir. He just also happens to share a taste for the fiery and aquatic.” Hoosier shuddered. “I don’t know if I could sleep with someone whose family and people have built a reputation on luring sailors to their deaths. Granted, it’s kept us from being invaded, but it’s just so damn morbid.”

“Haldane seems to do it just fine,” Leckie said.

“Yeah, but Andy’s insane, like all the Sidhe. He just hides it well,” Hoosier said. 

Leckie actually laughed at that. Haldane’s façade didn’t give away one iota of a fact that he was currently trying to battle a possible coup. He went about life like it was normal, as if his biggest worries were Snafu burning the carpet and Eddie not eating enough at dinner. 

It struck him that even though Haldane had the luxury of years, he didn’t necessarily have the _time_. 

“Are you worried?” he asked.

“I’m always worried, Leckie, it’s what gives me my surly manner,” Hoosier said. His fingers rested on Leckie’s hips, settling on the bruises he’d left there last night. “The Queen will not give up her throne without a fight. She still has another two centuries until her abdication. Larkin may be power hungry; Ville might be a shithole that needs more whorehouses to keep its people from spending their free hours thinking about revolutions; but Queen Kitty and her Consort aren’t exactly going to sit back and let this go on unchallenged.”

“You seem pretty damn certain in your convictions,” Leckie said.

“I could spend all my free hours worrying about political ramifications and what might happen, but we’ve already got one miserable bastard in this relationship, Leckie, and I got to tell you, it’s not me.”

“What are we going to do?” Leckie asked, surprised at how lost his own voice sounded.

Hoosier placed a light kiss to the back of his neck. “We’ll muddle on through,” he said, strong hands keeping Leckie so very grounded.

************

Three months of this bullshit and Leckie was moving back to frustrated on the emotional scale. He took that as a good sign, feeling something other than hopelessness for a bit. The Veil Drop was three months away and Leckie highly doubted, in his current state, that Webster would give the okay for him to leave.

Hell, Leckie hadn’t left the Manor in two weeks. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Snafu said, barging into Leckie’s room, breaking up his thoughts.

Snafu was fully dressed with shoes on, which meant he was going outside of Merrymec. He looked mildly annoyed, which translated into pretty damn angry in anyone else. 

“What the fuck do you want?” Leckie asked.

Snafu walked over to the bed and glared at Leckie. They were engaged in a staring contest for a good five minutes until Snafu tilted his mattress at the perfect angle to send Leckie sprawling out on the floor. 

“You’ve been in here for a week. You need a shower. The pixies are complaining about the stench and your moping is bothering the ghoul in the dungeon.”

“I thought _you_ where the ghoul in the dungeon,” Leckie muttered. 

“Funny man,” Snafu said. He grabbed the comforter and tugged, leaving Leckie bare on the floor. “I finally get why the wizard still bothers with you.”

“Fuck you,” Leckie said, grabbing for a pillow. 

“You’re not coming near me smelling like that,” Snafu said. He threw a set of towels at Leckie’s head. “Clean yourself up, we’re going on a field trip.”

“A real one or are you just taking me to a brothel again?” Leckie asked. It was an honest question. Apparently Snafu came from the _Sex Solves Everything_ school of thought.

“You’re beyond the aid of a good fuck,” Snafu said. 

Leckie couldn’t deny his spark of intrigue. It wasn’t often that Snafu willingly sought him out. They had a mutual understanding of respect and avoidance. 

He threw on his near threadbare t-shirt and a jacket. Snafu wasn’t in the room, which meant the bastard was probably at the bottom of the stairs, tapping his foot and cursing Leckie’s name. 

He purposefully took the long way down the stairs. 

“You’re being a jackass,” Hoosier said, sticking his head out of his work room.

“You know where he’s taking me?” he asked.

Hoosier shook his head. A shimmering dust fell off his hair and formed a shiny puddle on the doorstep.

Leckie reached a hand out and felt his brow furrowed as he studied the glittering gold dust.

“Are you deconstructing Tinker Bell in there?” he asked.

“I always wanted to fly,” Hoosier said, “but no. It is pixie dust and thanks to Snafu I dropped about five handfuls too much into my potion.”

“Is that why you won’t come out?” Leckie asked.

“Leckie, you’ve seen me naked and at my most vulnerable. I promise you, you don’t need to see me with fawn legs.”

Leckie felt his lips quirk and tilted his head to steal a glance.

“Don’t even think about it,” Hoosier said. He pointed to the stairs. “You better get your ass down there. There are consequences for upsetting Snafu. Don’t anger the man who’s taking you out past the city walls. He might just leave you in the wilderness and do you really want a repeat of that?”

“How do I know he’s not planning to kill me and dump my body in a ditch somewhere?” 

“Because that would make Sledge very, very sad,” Hoosier said. It apparently explained everything.

Knowing Snafu, it probably _did_.

Leckie tried to lean forward for a kiss but Hoosier threw his hands up. 

“You’re not going to Ville covered in pixie dust. You’ll be shot down by the archers before you have a chance to blink.”

“Banned substance?” Leckie asked.

“Highly. Caused a mass riot there about two centuries back,” Hoosier said. 

“Leckie get your ass down here,” Snafu’s voice carried through the house.

“You’re being summoned,” Hoosier said.

“Try not to kill yourself while I’m gone,” Leckie said.

“Likewise,” Hoosier replied. He slid the door closed, the unfamiliar sound of _clomp-clipity-clomp_ ringing out from the floor. 

Snafu led the way down to the coach. 

“Daddy gave you the keys to the car?” Leckie asked.

Snafu gave him the finger. Apparently that gesture translated over well. 

They’d traveled for a good twenty minutes past Merrymec’s walls before Leckie started asking questions. Sledge hadn’t explained the joy of _Are We There Yet?_ to Snafu; Leckie only abused him a little.

He finally gave up the game. “Where are we going?”

“New Gate,” Snafu said. 

Leckie heard rumors of the New Gate market on the outskirts of Ville. He never thought to see it for himself, not while he dwelled in Haldane’s house. He understood that Haldane had to walk a very safe line and couldn’t leave his own seat of power. People took land boundaries very serious here, they weren’t just lines drawn on maps, but actual variant sects of power. Haldane’s town cropped up over the years from the staff at the Manor, but it was still a tiny village compared to the massive city at the mountain’s base. The only thing that kept Haldane’s home safe was the power of his position.

It helped Merrymec that everyone feared the wrath of the Sirens too. Apparently they were cousins of the Banshees and various other warrior tribes.

New Gate catered more to the people than the proletariats since it was outside the city, but the goods came from all over. While the elite and certain parts of the city center had access to the more advanced technology, most of the citizens lived closer to an agrarian lifestyle. It was still more Dust Bowl than Medieval Hamlet, but there wasn’t an urge here among the people for trains, planes, and automobiles. 

It wasn’t a simple life at all, just a more Spartan existence. 

It didn’t take them long to arrive, not with the coach. The field was full of carts, wagons, a rare tamed horse, stalls, and people. There was the smell of roasting food, and sweating humans, and it all made Leckie’s nose wrinkle. Snafu was doing the same, so at least he didn’t feel like a complete asshole.

“What are we doing here?” he asked.

“I figured you’d want to be around people who smell like you,” Snafu said. 

“Fuck you,” Leckie said.

Snafu smirked. “You keep saying that, Leckie, I might just have to tattle to Hoosier. Don’t think the Magic Man would like that too much.”

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re evil?” he asked.

Snafu shrugged, passing over some coins for a cob of corn. “Sledge calls me the bane of his existence when I wake him up.”

“You technique needs work,” Leckie said. 

He looked around at the stall with all their wares. They carried items from the shiny and colorful, to the dark and leathery. There were things for work, for food, and for pleasure; all a sign of a successful society. A few people gave them suspicious looks, but friendly faces wanting to make a sale were the norm.

“Why are we here?” Leckie asked, again.

“I need to pick up some sketch pads for Sledge and Haldane’s ear cuff order is ready for pick up.”

“Haldane wears ear cuffs?” Leckie asked, baffled. He’d never seen that and didn’t imagine Haldane as the type.

“He doesn’t, but Eddie does for the Ball. Haldane commissions a new one each year.”

“Ball?” Leckie asked, distracted by a stall selling glass flowers that seemed to move.

“When the Veil drops, it’s a big deal for us. It’s in the—” Snafu started. 

“—Handbook,” Leckie interrupted him, “ I know, I read that. I just didn’t think Eddie went all Sunday Best for them.”

“It’s not really for him,” Snafu said, a truly dirty smile on his lips, “though I’m sure he gladly reaps the benefits.”

Leckie pinched his brow. “More than I ever wanted to know.”

Snafu shrugged. “They get a little loud and the house has good acoustics.”

“Snafu,” Leckie warned.

Snafu stopped at a stall with a large green awning over the top. There weren’t many people milling about and those who were had actual gemstones woven into their clothes. Snafu didn’t notice, or more likely didn’t care, but Leckie tugged the collar of his jacket higher, trying to hide his own worn clothing.

Snafu held out his corn to Leckie while he dug in his pockets for a letter. He pulled out a piece of parchment bearing Haldane’s green wax seal.

“I’m here to pick up an order for the Manor of Merrymec,” he said, holding out the letter. His other hand went to his teeth to pick out the corn kernels.

Leckie knew his face was burning and he didn’t even try to hide it. 

The clerk must’ve been used to Snafu, because she didn’t blink an eye, just took the letter and wandered back into her stall. 

“I know you know how to be civil, why don’t you ever try?” Leckie asked.

Snafu took his corn back. “Why are these people better than me? Why should I bow and behave in front of them? They ain’t no better than me or you, Leckie, just because they work with metal and jewels. They’ve got their own worth, but what gives them the right to look down on a body like me? Or Roe? Or Hoosier? Just because we don’t put pretty things in our hair and act like fools?”

Snafu had a point, as he always did, with his fool’s wisdom. Basic manners were still an important thing.

“It’s called being a nice person,” Leckie said.

“What do I know about nice?” Snafu asked. “What do _you_ know about it?”

Leckie had to give him that one.

The clerk came back with a beautifully ornate wooden box and handed it over. Snafu took it with his free hand and pocketed it before walking off. 

“You’re not even going to check if it’s correct?” Leckie asked.

“I trust them to do their job and it ain’t mine to open,” Snafu said. 

He dropped his cob on the side of one of the stalls and moved Leckie to the far corner of the market.

“Hoosier said you’re a writer.” He waved at a cart filled with gorgeous hand-bound journals.

They were beautiful and smelled like all the things Leckie had ever loved and held dear.

He picked one up in awe, carefully fingering the cloth cover and the hand cut pages on the inside. “These are too beautiful to write in,” he said.

“They’re journals, Leckie, you have to write in them,” Snafu said.

“Just because you choose to deface archival works with your scrawl doesn’t mean we all have such disregard for books.”

“Or you could stop acting like a jackass and just buy a few of the damn journals so that vendor can feed his family.”

“You take the romance out of everything, Snafu,” Leckie said.

Snafu shrugged. “It’s my gift.”

Leckie shook his head but did end up buying a few of the journals and inkwells.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he said.

“Do you?” Snafu asked as they walked back to the coach. He lit his cigarette with a flame that appeared from his palm. “Then next time I’ll just let you come on your own.”

“I thought only wizards could do that,” Leckie said, gesturing to the dissipating flames.

“I got wizard blood somewhere down my line. It didn’t fully manifest like it did for Hoosier, but I can do a few simple spells.”

Leckie never would have guessed that. “So, you’re not just a Reader of the Last Thought?”

“I’m pretty much a mutt, Leckie,” he said, like it was general knowledge. “All of us who come from the servants are like that. We ain’t like the royals, we don’t got to keep our lines pure.”

“So Hoosier’s not a pure wizard?”

“Nah, that’s one of the reasons he’s so down in the levels. They prefer the pure lines, the wizards. It pisses so many of them off having someone like Hoosier working for Prince Charming.”

“Why?” 

“’Cause he’s some country boy from a family of garden spell witches. He didn’t go to no fancy school, or apprentice with one of the wizards from the City, and yet he’s got a cushy position working with the next king.”

Leckie was honestly confused. “I thought Haldane said he wasn’t the heir to the throne.” 

“He’s not, technically speaking, but there’s no way in hell the people are going to take Larkin over him. Larkin doesn’t know how to lead, he just knows how to be an asshole.”

“And Haldane is aware of all of this? I thought he was looking for a way to put down the coup,” Leckie said.

“He is,” Snafu said, “but it’s going to happen, by his will or not. I think he likes living in the Land of Denial right now, but Eddie sure as hell knows. Then again, Sirens know everything.”

“Everyone says that.”

“Water goes everywhere, Sirens know its language,” Snafu said.

“ _Loose lips sinks ships_ ,” Leckie quoted, laughing at his own joke. 

“You ain’t too bad,” Snafu said, blowing a cloud of smoke in his face. 

Snafu parked the coach and went back up to the house, but Leckie decided to stop by Sledge’s house first. He needed to talk to another Wanderer.

“I need a purpose,” Leckie said, sitting across from Sledge at his dinner table. 

Shifty, in his role as cook, snorted. 

“Agreed,” Sledge said. He pushed a journal into Leckie’s hands. “Collect our stories.”

“What?” he asked.

“If you’re going to leave, you might as well take some of our stories with you.”

“You’re not going to try and talk me out of leaving?” Leckie asked. 

Sledge shrugged. “It’s not my place to tell you what to do. You will make your choice regardless of what I say. I just believe in preparing for every eventuality.”

Leckie picked up one of the journals. “And you think this is preparation.”

“I think if you’re going to make any decision with a clear mind you need to go back to the things which have always brought you joy in life. You’re a writer and a historian, Bob, you love to collect and spin tales. You know enough about us now to do it with some sort of justice.”

Leckie patted Sledge on the shoulder. “You’re not too bad, Eugene.”

“I’m honored you think so highly of me.”

“You really think Webster will let me go home?” he asked.

“If it’s the choice of your soul, he’ll have no say in the matter,” Shifty said, looking out into the night. “You came here without your notice and you may well leave in the same manner. Webster and his bureaucrats can’t fight the pull home if it’s meant for you.”

“I knew there was more to it than what’s in that damn Handbook,” Leckie muttered.

Sledge just put a hand over his eyes and laughed.


	5. Five

**Acceptance**

It felt good to have a purpose again. Collecting stories was definitely helping him pass the time until the Veil Drop. Having the journal in his hand and a pencil for notes, he’d already spent a week collecting the stories of everyone in Merrymec. 

Some of the stories were grand, like how Runner and Chuckler met. Others were more mundane, like Chuck Grant, whose family worked in Merrymec since the foundations of the Manor.

It was now time to gather the long histories, those with higher positions and more convoluted pasts. He decided to start with Gene Roe.

Leckie sat down in one of the plush chairs that filled Roe’s sitting room. His home was filled with the sweet scents of all the herbs hanging from the rafters. The warm fire tempted any guest into sleep and the whole set-up served well to soothe the soul. There were a few arcane symbols carved into the walls. Leckie honestly didn’t know if that reflected Roe’s Healer or Reaper side. 

Roe set a spread on the table of tea and snacks. 

“You wanted to speak with me?” he asked. 

“Snafu said you might be open to some questioning if I asked nicely,” he said, accepting the cup of tea Roe held out.

Roe nodded. “He informed me of your current project.”

“I know there are some things you can’t tell me, secrets of your craft and such.”

“None of it is so much secret,” Roe said with a small smile, “it’s more observation. People are never good at noticing or dwelling on that which makes them uncomfortable.”

Leckie nodded and set his cup aside. “How did you decide to do this? I mean, you’ve got two pretty warring sides going on there.”

“Not quite so conflicting,” Roe said. He pulled a book from the stack on the table. “You’ll need Sledge or Snafu to translate it for you, but this gives the technical explanation between Healers and Reapers. They’ve always been tied; it’s just rare for two of the Primes to produce a child.”

“Primes?” Leckie asked. He carefully placed the old book in his lap.

“Wizards have levels,” Roe explained, “Healers and Reapers have Primus, Secundus.”

“Latin,” Leckie said, making a note in his journal. He stopped his writing in surprise. “I guess it makes sense.”

“We’ve had Wanderers as long as we’ve had our own world. The influences are felt everywhere. The reverse happens on your side, I am sure.”

“Yeah, I finally know where Danish comes from,” Leckie said.

Roe’s lips quirked at the joke. “Ask me what you will, Robert.”

“Did you make the choice between the two or was it chosen at birth?” 

“I am both,” Roe said. “I am a Healer and a Reaper. I can heal the body and I can take the soul. There is no choice between the two. One depends on the other. I take none before their time. I may take the soul out of the body for some repair, but it’s always returned. I am my very nature, Robert.”

Leckie looked at Roe in awe. No one would ever guess that the pale face and compact body hid so much power. Roe’s eyes flashed as Leckie studied them and the glamour dropped.

“Holy shit,” Leckie muttered, staring into the depthless pools that were Roe’s true eyes.

“All Healers and Reapers hide their eyes. It unnerves those who don’t understand. There is always the concern of a patient or stranger getting stuck in the thrall.”

“The thrall being the hypnotizing shit your eyes are doing right now,” Leckie said. He blinked and sat back, shaking his head.

“Indeed,” Roe agreed.

“I’m honored you shared that with me,” Leckie said.

“You’re safe,” Roe said, “you’re under a wizard’s care.”

“A fan of romance novels?” Leckie asked.

“No,” Roe said, clearly fighting back a smile, “just a statement of fact. You carry traces of Hoosier’s magic on you; it protects you from falling into a thrall.”

“So, he’s basically marked me like a dog,” Leckie said, shaking his head. “Well, that explains how Runner knew without me saying anything.”

“Oh, that’s more likely Merriell,” Roe said. “He’s always been a gossip.”

Leckie smiled at hearing Snafu’s real name. So few people used it, but Roe was all about being proper. He gestured around the house. “Do you live here alone, Doc?”

Roe nodded. “It is a mostly lonely existence, mine. My parents were lucky to find each other. My kind lives longer than the Sidhe, you see. We have a great duty to fulfill, and while it is always a joy to share that burden, there are few souls who could handle carrying the weight.”

“That sucks,” Leckie said, settling back into his chair. He’d never thought it’d be this easy to talk to Roe. The eyes and spirit could scare off a hoard and yet there was a unique comfort to his presence.

“I don’t presume to know the future, but I will recognize the soul when it is time. I’ve learned to be patient with my own matters, Robert, I save the hurry for everyone else.”

 

************

 

“So tell me about your history,” Leckie said, curled up next to Hoosier in his bed. 

“Isn’t that something you’re supposed to ask a man _before_ you sleep with him,” Hoosier muttered into the side of Leckie’s chest.

“Cute,” Leckie said.

“My mother certainly thinks so,” Hoosier quipped.

“ _Tell me_ ,” Leckie insisted. He grasped the arm Hoosier had around his waist. “You know you’re dying to have me recount your tale in my future bestseller.”

Hoosier snorted and sat up. He stretched his arms out and blew out a breath. “We’re going to need to get drunk for this.”

“Really?” Leckie asked.

Hoosier nodded. He walked over to his wardrobe and threw some clothes at Leckie. “Get dressed,” he ordered.

Before he could reply, Jay burst into the room.

“The Queen is coming,” he yelled.

Leckie laughed. “Is this some new game?” He turned to Hoosier, expecting a smart-ass reply.

Hoosier’s eyes were wide. “Shit,” he muttered.

Jay took two gulps of air before speaking. “Gibson sent the notice out from Ville. She’s making a surprise appearance at the Ball. She wants to assure that Haldane is not trying to steal her crown.”

“Come the fuck on,” Leckie said, “she has to know he wouldn’t do that.”

“She probably does,” Hoosier admitted, “but she’s got a whole Court to please.”

Jay nodded. “We must act on protocol. You know the sentries will be sent first.”

“Yeah,” Hoosier said, looking like he’d just swallowed down something horrible. He stomped back to his wardrobe and pulled out a set of black robes. 

“What the hell is that?” Leckie asked.

“Protocol dressing for a novice wizard,” Hoosier said. 

“Haldane’s loosened the uniform protocols for each station, but the Queen’s visit requires we return to the laws as they are written in Ville,” Jay said.

He noticed that Jay was wearing a set of red robes. Leckie was starting to feel like he was in the Vatican.

“Thanks Jay,” Hoosier said, “do me a favor and go tell Snafu.”

Jay nodded once more and practically flew from the room.

“Such an excitable young cub,” Leckie said.

Hoosier laughed as he pulled the robes over his head.

“You’re not honestly wearing those, are you?’ Leckie asked, not even bothering to cover his distaste.

“Have to,” Hoosier said. He smoothed the fabric down. “We can’t give anyone a reason to call Andy out right now.”

“Do _I_ have to wear that shit?” he asked.

“No,” Hoosier said, “as a Wanderer you get an eternal pass.” 

“Thank god,” Leckie muttered. He pulled on his borrowed clothes and tried not to make a face when they pulled tight across his back. “Where are we going?”

“Please,” Hoosier said with a flat look. 

As they walked to The Grounded Brigantine, Leckie noticed the small and subtle changes in the village. Official outfits were worn by everyone and some of the more garish house and store displays were pulled down or changed. A part of Leckie was really pissed off, yet he understood. The same thing was done to any town when a dignitary came to visit. Groveling at the feet of authority just set his teeth on edge. 

The Grounded Brigantine, lying outside the city walls, seemed to give less than a shit that the Queen was coming.

“The ship still has the blessings of the Sirens,” Hoosier explained, “the Queen holds no sway here.”

“Can we just stay here until she’s gone?”

Hoosier laughed. “She’s really not that bad. It’s just the hanger-ons. Her consort, Prince Harry, now that’s a Sidhe you want to take out for a drink.”

“Did someone mention Prince Harry?” Captain Stella asked. She shook her head, dark curls bouncing in the lantern light. “Better place another liquor order. That Sidhe always drinks us dry when he comes to visit.”

“Not too impressed with the royals then?” Leckie asked.

Captain Stella laughed. “They’re not _my_ royals. As long as their family squabbles don’t bring a war to my doorstep, it’s no worry of mine.” She motioned over to the bar. “I’ll have your regulars sent over, boys.”

Leckie was really going to miss the Captain when he was gone. 

Hoosier fiddled with a loose thread of his novice robe. It was so disconcerting to someone as contrary as Hoosier yield to convention and official dress.

“You going to start talking?” Leckie asked.

“Do I look drunk yet to you?” Hoosier asked. 

Leckie laid his hand over one of Hoosier’s. “You can trust me with your story. I promise not to ruin your reputation.”

“Oh, you’ve already done that,” Hoosier said. He sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. “Okay, fine.”

Leckie let go of his hand and sat back. “Thank you.”

“You better be thankful,” Hoosier said. His manner darkened as he gathered his thoughts, tongue darting out to wet his lips, eyes refusing to meet Leckie’s gaze. “As you’ve heard by now, I wasn’t exactly an easy child. I’m from the country, with a family of wizards who have done nothing more for generations than grow crops and heal animals. When I came along, they didn’t know what to do. I was all over the place, Bob, I was destructive. My father sent me to our closest village hoping someone there could help.

I earned an apprenticeship with the local wizard. We though he was a true master, but he turned out just to be a con. My grandmother threatened to bring him up on charges, so he agreed to bring me to Ville to learn from a real Master Wizard. Asshole got knifed in a tavern halfway there. I didn't have enough money to get home, so I stayed around here. I worked any job I could find. As I got older I quite liked the freedom, but I started to lose control more than usual. I got into more fights than even Bull could handle breaking up. Someone decided it was wise to dump me into Haldane’s lap.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me,” Leckie said. He remembered all of Eddie’s comments about Haldane’s strays. Not to mention Haldane’s warnings about Hoosier’s temperament.

Hoosier smiled, breaking his trance-like state. “Haldane is really big on giving everyone a chance and finding the best place for them. He said my mind was for too smart to work in the hospitality business.”

“I’m pretty sure he meant your mouth.”

“I won’t disagree on that one.”

Leckie nudged Hoosier’s foot with his own. “So, have you had any formal training?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding, “Haldane brought me to a few independent wizards who don’t like to follow chapter and verse of the Accepted Creed. I’m never going to get a high ranking because I don’t come from the right stock.” Hoosier threw back his drink. “Fuck ‘em, I know damn well how to do my job.”

Hoosier started fiddling with the loose thread again. Leckie led him have the time to gather himself. Hoosier hated being vulnerable. It was a trait they both shared.

He waited until Stella brought their next round of drinks before asking another question. “You’re still learning, correct? You’re training to raise your rank as high as you can.”

Hoosier’s smile was dark. “I’ve got a ways to go, but I ain’t exactly going to the ground anytime soon.”

Leckie felt sad all of a sudden. He wasn’t going to get to see Hoosier turn into a more powerful wizard. He wouldn’t see Roe meet his match. He’d probably never see Stella again, not with the Veil Drop only two weeks away. 

It was suddenly pretty damn hard to breathe.

“You okay?” Hoosier asked. He’d taken one of Leckie’s hands in his own. His callused fingers rubbed calm circles onto Leckie’s wrist.

Leckie knew those overworked fingers gave way to delicate wrist bones and toned forearms. He knew that Hoosier tried to kill anyone who woke him in the middle of the night. That he liked to sleep with his chin tucked down to his chest. That he was ticklish on his right side, right above his hip bone, but not on the left. He was more likely to bite his lips until they were bleeding than let out a moan. He liked the purple-colored-strawberry fruits and not the blue-colored-fake beets. He sung his incantations more than spoke them and that; he preferred Roe’s tea over anything anyone else in the Manor made.

“Goddamnit, I’m going to miss you,” Leckie said.

 

************

 

Merrymec had gone into a frenzy. The Queen’s impending arrival and the general revelry of the Veil Drop saw the streets surging with crowds. Not that Leckie noticed much. Webster had finally, after two full days of arguing and holding a mock trial with witnesses, signed off on Leckie’s return.

He should have been excited, but he could _hear_ the clock ticking down in his head. There was one more story he definitely needed to collect before he left. It just took a scheduled appointment and an act of a Siren to get it.

Aindrea Haldane didn’t look like a man about to meet his own fate. He looked just like he did every day, in his office, going through paperwork. 

“So you really _are_ the Man Who Would Be King,” Leckie said, sitting down in front of him. 

Haldane paused in his writing and put his pen down.

“My cousin is more than capable at the position,” Haldane said. 

Leckie rolled his eyes. “Roe doesn’t seem to think so. I might be new around here, but when someone who is down with Reapers makes a fuss, I’d have to believe him.”

Haldane sighed and for a moment his own glamour dropped. It wasn’t a magical one, just the aura of confidence and competence that came to all in a leadership position.

“Let me guess, uneasy lies the head that wears the crown?”

“You are just full of the clichés today,” Haldane said. 

“Haldane, I feel like I’m stuck in a cliché. Or some twisted version of _Alice in Wonderland_.”

“I don’t think periwinkle blue suits you,” Haldane said. He looked up from his desk and faced Leckie. “I would never actively seek to usurp my cousin but I am well aware of my place in the line of succession. I’m preparing myself to the best of my abilities. I do not live my life in naïveté, despite what Snafu and Eddie might think. I know how precarious the situation is. I know my cousin is power hungry. I am well aware of the fact I need to prepare Burgin as well and as quickly as I am able.”

“Would Larkin really arrange for the murder of his own foster mother?”

“You’re the one who studied Ancient Rome, you tell me.”

Leckie grimaced. “Then why is the Queen coming here? It’s awfully sudden.”

“Aunt Kitty doesn’t do anything without reason,” Haldane said, for once dropping the title. He tapped his fingers on his desk, a nervous gesture Leckie rarely witnessed. “I have a feeling she knows what Larkin plans to do in her absence. He may call for a coup, or gather allies to his side. It matters not; he is not ready to rule. He know this, it’s buried somewhere deep in his soul. He just has people whispering in his ears, telling him that he is more, will be much greater, than his capabilities. It serves Kitty well to come here, to meet her country citizens and gain their support. They will see her as a Queen who cares, rather than a faceless name and title.”

“So this visit has nothing to do with judging you to be worthy and all to do with a Public Relations move?” Leckie asked.

“Politics is politics, no matter where you are,” Haldane said.

Leckie really wanted to know how the story ended. Outside of trying to track Realm Jumpers around New York City, he didn’t think that would be possible. 

“What’s Eddie’s role in all this?” he asked.

“Our marriage was sought for the sake of alliance,” Haldane said, “but I would never dream of dragging the Sirens into this. Not until I have no other choice. There would be deadly results.”

“For the Sirens?”

“No,” Haldane said, “for the soldiers and the townspeople. The Sirens can order the rains and the floods. They can change the courses of wherever the waters go. It would be an act of suicide to make an enemy of them.”

“Then _why_ is your cousin risking that?”

“Because he forgets that Eideard is a child of the Sirens and the Wild. He doesn’t realize what Eddie can do and the power he holds.”

“And you’re not about to remind him,” Leckie said.

Haldane nodded. “You see, Bob, as much as Eddie strives to protect me from myself, I do much the same for him.”

“ _How—_ ”

“Oh no,” Haldane interrupted him, “that’s a much longer story and I fear there are not enough hours left in the day for it. I will tell you on the walk to the Void.”

The Void, being the crossroad point in the forest just outside Merrymec, was the portal to the Other Side. Leckie knew he’d have an escort there, he just didn’t expect it to be Haldane.

“Won’t you have a Queen to entertain?” he asked.

Haldane shook his head. “That’s what I have Eddie for, besides, by the time we leave everyone will be too overcome by the celebrations to care. Prince Harry will be up at The Grounded Brigantine anyway. Kitty will probably be with him.”

“I can’t picture a queen barhopping.”

“She dresses up like a stable hand,” Haldane explained. 

Leckie forced himself not to make the obvious Queen in drag joke, especially since the pun would be lost on His Royal Sidhe. 

“I might just miss you, Haldane,” Leckie said.

“The feeling might just be mutual,” Haldane replied.

They shared a companionable silence, Haldane going back to his work and Leckie expanding on the notations in his journal, until the bells chimed signaling lunch. He was going to miss those melodic bells, and the kitchen sprites, and the neon blue-colored-grapes that always came with his lunch.

“You don’t have to leave,” Haldane said.

“No, I don’t,” Leckie admitted, not looking up from his book, “but I think I _should_.”

 

 ************

Extended goodbyes absolutely sucked balls and Leckie hated making them. Some he had to do days in advance, like with Runner and Chuckler, already on guard duty. Roe was too busy patching up busted lips and broken bones from all the revelers, and Hoosier and Snafu were both in constant service to the Queen and her Court.

Leckie couldn’t lie, Kitty was pretty damn awesome. She swore like a sailor, cheated at cards, and constantly put Snafu in his place. Her husband had an infectious smile and laugh, and if he wasn’t dropping through a portal in two days, Leckie would’ve gladly shared a beer or five with the man. 

For now, he took solace in Sledge’s home. Sledge didn’t participate in the celebrations. He was hardly of the partying persuasion and didn’t exactly feel the need to toast a royal family he didn’t pledge allegiance to and a holiday which tore him from his home. 

“Why did you decide to stay?” Leckie asked. Sledge had given him vague answers in the past, and he hoped, so close to the end now, the truth would come out.

“I never felt like I belonged back there,” Sledge said.

“And you feel like you do here?”

Sledge shook his head. “It’s not that, really, I just knew I could never go back and be satisfied with that life. I was restless before I came over here, how could I ever go back?”

There was a hopelessness to Sledge’s words.

“You’ve never been tempted?” Leckie asked.

“I went back once,” Sledge admitted. “There’s a way to arrange it, to leave and return before the Veil rises again. I felt like I had to see my family, explain what happened, not that they’d believe me.”

“What did happen?”

“I realized it would be a cruel thing to do, to go home to them only to leave again. I was already declared dead, visited my gravesite with my empty coffin. And I felt guilt, so much damn guilt, Bob, because I’m _happy_ here in a way I never was there. There was no life for me to return to, just memories.”

Leckie didn’t know how to respond to that, all that loss contained in Sledge’s few words.

“Couldn’t you have made your life over again, back home,” he finally asked.

Sledge shook his head. “This is my home now,” he argued. “I knew that within a month of staying here. Going back to Earth, I’d be just a much a tourist there as here.”

“So you stayed,” Leckie said.

“Isn’t it better to be a Wanderer rather than a permanent tourist?” Sledge asked. 

Leckie smiled. “I never looked at it that way.”

“You are perpetually able to see the dark side of everything, Bob, but you always forget there’s a bright side somewhere. Even if it’s tarnished.”

“You say the sweetest things to me, Sledge.”

Sledge threw a rag at his head. “You’re almost more trouble than your worth.”

“Hoosier shares your sentiments,” Leckie agreed.

Sledge sighed. “I know love, or lust, or whatever is between you and Hoosier isn’t enough alone to make you stay, but do you have that back in New York? Do you have a group of friends willing to save you from yourself? Leckie, do you have _anyone_?”

“I’ve got a home and a job, nieces and nephews. I was pretty damn happy with the way things were.”

“You could be happy here,” Sledge said. It was a declaration, not a statement. 

“What happened to not convincing me to leave?” Leckie asked, ignoring the lump in his throat.

“I was being selfless, then. I figured you’d change your mind,” Sledge said. He stared into the fire. “I’m sorry, Leckie, you don’t need all this unasked for and misplaced guilt.” 

Sledge stood up and walked over to his desk. He pulled out two sketchbooks and pressed them into Leckie’s hands. 

“Sledge,” he said, grasping for words.

“They’re for you,” Sledge said, “so you can remember.”

“Thank you,” Leckie whispered.

Sledge nodded, a sad tilt to his head. He propped himself on the arm of Leckie’s chair. They both sat in silence, watching the fire burn through the wood, while the sounds of the city filled the room. 

 

************

“No goodbyes,” Hoosier whispered into Leckie’s ear. They shared one last hug on the Manor’s doorstep.

“Try to go on without me,” Leckie muttered in reply. He held tight to Hoosier’s back, his hands grasping the folds of his robe. 

Hoosier didn’t laugh, just palmed the back of Leckie’s head, fingers lingering on the nape of his neck. 

It was Snafu who quietly, and even with a hint of remorse, broke them up.

“You need to get on the road, Leckie,” he said.

“I know,” Leckie replied. He pulled back from Hoosier and looked at him. “You’re still a jackass,” he said.

“And you’re still a miserable bastard,” Hoosier replied. He stepped away from Leckie, back into the Manor where Snafu was waiting for him. They both had a Queen and her Court to entertain.

Leckie watched them until they disappeared around the corner. 

Eddie pulled him into a tight embrace. He smelled like the sea, nature, and all magnificent things. “It’s okay to miss us as well,” he murmured into Leckie’s hair. 

Leckie nodded. “And it’s okay to be who you really are,” he said. 

Eddie smiled, letting his glamour drop for a mere second, before putting it back in place. 

“Be careful on the road,” Eddie said, as much to Leckie as Haldane. He then followed in the steps of Hoosier and Snafu. 

It took Leckie’s breath away, watching the Manor’s door finally close.

“Leckie,” Haldane said, an arm around his shoulder.

“I know,” Leckie said. 

They took the coach out to the forest. Leckie slept most of the way. He didn’t want to talk; he didn’t want to think; and he didn’t want Haldane to ask if they should turn back. Leckie honestly didn’t know what the hell his answer would be. He could feel the need to run burning under his skin, adrenaline kicking up, and roaring through his veins.

Nothing was ever easy. 

It was completely dark by the time they arrived at the edge of the wood. The stars were their guide to the Void. The power surrounded the forest in a thick blanket. There was no sound here, as if everything, the wind included, held its breath for the Veil Drop. 

The Void pulsated like a living, breathing thing, before him. He expected to see the Void, but not everything else around it. Leckie didn’t think the veils and borders could be viewed by the human eye, but he could clearly see them now wavering and shimmering. It was like watching light pass through stained glass, only with more shine involved. He felt like he was in St. Gabe’s, the heat of the sun beating down through the windows, mixed with the heavy scent of incense, as he kneeled before the crucifix and took his place among the faithful. That was years ago, when he still believed in the immaterial. A lifetime ago, now. How the hell was he supposed to go back to his shithole apartment on the Lower East Side, watching hipsters and gentrification take over the historical enclaves he once knew. 

“You don’t have to go,” Haldane said, repeating his words from early.

“I know,” Leckie said. 

He turned around to study the forest. He still remembered the first time he went to Central Park, marveled at all the trees and space, so different from the industrial neighborhood of New Jersey where he grew up. He never thought a city could have such green spaces. Even when he went off and traveled to places far removed from city lights, he never quite saw a sky like he could see here.

“You never used coal here, did you?” he asked.

Haldane shook his head. “Energy generation has never been a problem for us, especially when you consider we have whole groups of pixies whose only lot in life is to provide light.”

“Coal, gas, pollution, destruction; all used in the name of advancement. And we made some beautiful things, without any magic on our side.”

“Well, with some. We have our own Wanderers on that side.”

Leckie laughed. “Yeah, I remember. I just, I never cared all that much about a lot of things until I came here. I was angry, for no reason, hell, I’m still angry. Something tells me that’s never going to change. I’ve never spent so much time thinking about the world and my place in it. I don’t want to be forgotten.”

“No one does,” Haldane said.

“Easy for you to say, Prince Charming. You’re going to be buried in a Hall of Kings with funeral processions for days.”

“And that doesn’t mean my name won’t fade into obscurity. I’ll just have a fancier gravesite.”

“Fair point,” Leckie agreed. He toed the ground, smudging the smooth leather of his shoe with the dark soil. “I have no one back home to miss me, not really. I’m some obscure freelance writer and historian who cut ties with his blood family long ago. I’m the fake uncle to a few co-workers’ kids. I have some godchildren who need all the angels in Heaven on their sides if I’m supposed to be their protector.”

Haldane cleared his throat at that. “Pardon me for asking, Bob, why _exactly_ are you eager to go back? Just because it’s the life you once lived?”

“It’s where I’m supposed to be.”

“Are you so sure about that? You don’t even remember how you got here. Who’s to say you aren’t supposed to be _here_?” Haldane asked.

“I have issues leaving my life in the hands of some mystical higher power.”

“Your issues or not, you try using a rational explanation for how you ended up here. Do you often go walking through heavily wooded areas with access points to another world?”

“I’m having a personal existential crisis and you want to talk hypotheticals,” Leckie said. 

“You’ve darkened my office doorstep with more inane inquires,” Haldane said.

Leckie didn’t argue that point. He turned back to Haldane, the Sidhe who had a hell of a future ahead of him. Better than any story Leckie would get to cover back home. 

“I want to see how your story ends,” Leckie admitted. 

“You think it’s going to be one for the ages?”

Leckie shrugged. “I figure it will just as interesting as any presidential election coverage.” He turned back to the Void. He’d waited so long for this; it’d been his obsession for the past year. Now that it was here, he couldn’t force his feet to move.

He thought of Webster and Sledge; of Leyden, Lena and Midwood; of Shifty’s trickster eyes and Roe’s heavy fate. He thought of Eddie, Andy, and political intrigue. He would never find another Captain Stella or Snafu. He missed his Jewish delis, but they didn’t have Malarkey’s soup. They didn’t have Hoosier. 

“Too late to turn back?” he asked.

“Never,” Haldane said, sounding choked up.

“Are you crying?” Leckie asked.

“No,” Haldane insisted. 

Leckie laughed. “Oh, Haldane, I didn’t think you’d—” 

His words were cut off by a whooshing sound from the Void.

A young man dropped through, coughing like he’d just taken his first bong hit, and cursing a blue streak. Leckie recognized the accent, unmistakable South Philadelphian. 

There was a sound like a bomb going off and the Void closed.

“You _really_ need to work on guarding those borders,” he bitched at Haldane.

Haldane shrugged and walked over to the young man. He held out his hand. “Welcome, Wanderer.”

The boy gave him the finger.

Leckie liked him already.

 

************

Haldane left Leckie at Sledge’s house, helping the new Wanderer, Babe Heffron, to settle down for his own wait. He made Haldane swear that Hoosier wouldn’t know he was back until _after_ the Queen and her madness left Merrymec.

They’d all finally gone this morning. Heffron was finally sleeping through the night without driving Sledge and Leckie insane with all his questions. Merrymec was back to normal.

Well, almost.

Leckie snuck into the Manor through the Watch Keeper’s entrance. Eddie was behind the desk, a blinding smile on his face. He pointed at the back office where Hoosier was lost in thought while facing the windows. He was watching Bessie swim.

Hoosier jumped when Leckie palmed the back of his neck. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Hoosier asked.

Leckie shrugged as he sat down on the window sill. He tangled his feet with Hoosier’s and studied him for a moment. Hoosier was guarded, more of the angry wizard than the lazy asshole of his normal temperament.

“I figured since I was going to spend my life miserable anyway, I might as well spend it miserable with you,” he said. 

Hoosier clicked his fingers and a force of air slapped Leckie on the back of his head. 

“I honestly admitted to missing you, you asshole,” he said.

Leckie lightly kicked Hoosier in the knee.

“You shouldn’t have doubted me.”

“I never did,” Hoosier said.

“Bullshit,” Leckie retorted.

Hoosier leaned over his chair and pulled a book out of his desk. He threw it into Leckie’s lap with his normal gusto.

Leckie laughed out loud as he flipped through the leather-bound copy of _The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_.

“After you went off on that three hour rant over _The Wanderer’s Handbook_ , I asked one of our Realm Jumpers to bring back a copy of your favorite book. Vest returned two days before the Veil Drop, so I figured I’d just hold on to this copy until you made your way back.”

“Come here, you son of a bitch,” Leckie said, grabbing hold of Hoosier’s collar and pulling him in for a kiss.

It was damn good to be home again.


End file.
